sweet momma, there is no perfect life

This is an encounter with myself before I made the decision to start sharing my life learnings with mothers in the middle of the craziness of raising kiddos and trying to heal little ones broken by life. As women, we need a purpose, but then we compare our circumstance with something or someone that looks like they have better purpose or "the perfect life."


The only perfect life, is the one corriagraphed on social media. Go gentle on yourself, my friend.

I caress my coffee in both hands as steam rises, 
dusting over my face with pleasure aromas of nutty and chocolate note. 
In the early afternoon, 
with morning hair and Snoopy pajamas that have worn thin from love, 
I flip through Facebook posts as if drawn to the reveal of something unexpected. 
 Wow, lives so full; 
friendships, 
children, 
celebrations, 
blurred photos 
of little girls in floral dresses 
that lift and touch extended arms 
as shiny patent leather shoes 
whirl in circular motion. 
Little boys with mischievous eyes and crooked tie. Laughter and smiles shoring the perimeter of tables boasting heavy with food and drink and red wine stain on linens of white. 
Oh, the envy of exotic places, 
sun tanned bodies 
and little umbrella drinks.


I sip my coffee, which has grown as cold as my longing has grown large, 
and I allow heaviness to befall me. My pages seem insignificant. My children grown and pursuing dreams of their own - 
gone are my pages a mother proudly boasts.
 A new home in a new town ensures room for adventure, 
but friendships fresh and shallow are busy with friends of treasured pasts. 
My skin of paper white boasts goosebumps of cold and the umbrella I hold shelters me from rain. 
My life feels empty 
compared to theirs. Sigh.


And then I ask myself, Why do I compare? 
I did not awake to this despair; 
in fact, I enjoyed my lazy morning. 
My spirit is rich with joy and song lifts quickly from my lips. 
I have known the toothless smiles of children, 
large family gatherings, 
and vacations far away. 
My today’s differ from the times once lived, 
but certainly 
not less.

Perhaps I should be grateful for a season such as this? 
Perhaps, just perhaps, 
I’m not the only one who wonders 
while sitting in Snoopy Jammie’s on a cloudy day.


writer l communicator l artist l friend
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