Owning My Story

This is a picture of me at 28. Look at that smile!

I was a mother to an 18mo, 4yo & 7yo. My husband and father of 2 of my boys died about 5 months prior. I lived in a yurt with only wood heat, I washed cloth diapers for my baby with only an outhouse and a bucket.

That year we all got whooping cough. I was healing from a hernia surgery and busted my stitches. I still chopped my firewood and made the spaghetti dinner before me. There were a few angels in my life at the time, but I mostly did it on my own.

A friend asked me how I continued to smile. Without a doubt it was because of the deep nurturing bond I had with my children. I was determined to tap a deep root with them to weather the winds that tried repeatedly to knock our family tree over.

I wanted to live wild and deep.

I wanted to create the family experience that my inner child craved- so I just did it. Barriers feared me, my children revered me and I was never so heartbroken and fulfilled at the same time.

It was the sense of purpose, feeling needed and the capability of meeting that need that buoyed my heart. It was also the courage to be broken open hour after hour and day after day, knowing that was what healing was- falling to pieces and being reconstructed hour by hour, day by day.

And this is how deep wild love is made. It's not in the comfort and convenience that trust in life is built. It is in struggle and ambition that resilience is built.

The only constant is change. Life is not predictable. Relationships are not permanent. But if they are wild and deep they are worth the risk.

And if first you trust your own wild and deep nature, against all odds, you will build resilience, and in that you can place all your faith because that is the only thing that ever truly belongs to you.

With love,
Sunny