Surfing

My husband is a saint and I am grateful for him.  He would be the first to tell you that he is surely not a saint and that he does many unsaintly things---but to me, this evening and on many occasions, a saint he truly is.

I would highly recommend NOT moving anywhere near the time when you might be experiencing PMS.  Just not a wise idea.  Any move, as Andrew has already pointed out, is rough--then add in a toddler and a move off the grid into a cabin and you've got the makings for some real adjustment pains.  But, my sweet husband neglected to let you know about the last ingredient into our chaotic brew--my seemingly raging PMS.  Yikes.  Now, normally I am fairly even keeled all month long and am able to ride those hormonal fluctuations with relative ease.  Andrew took about the first three years of our marriage to realize that PMS is real, but now he is a PMS pro---able to surf it right along with me.  However, this past week the waves came and crashed us both on the reef.  It wasn't a beating, but there were a few good scrapes and a dinged surfboard.

We went to the `Imiloa Astronomy Center yesterday, a good place to take the little one when it is raining, and saw the planetarium show, Mauna Kea.  At one point it showed the first ancient Hawaiian explorers heading out into the vast ocean on their way to what they hoped would be new land.  Now that's balls!  It made me pause.  I feel out to sea right now and I am not really sure where we will land at this point.  But at least I know---I will land.

Maybe that should be my new mantra.  I will land!  I had a great conversation with my friend Stephanie tonight and she reminded me that settling into a new place takes time---even when you know you have a lot to be grateful for.  I want to be happy NOW!  I want to focus on the fact that I have a wonderful husband, an amazing child, great new friends and fabulous old friends, freedom to be with my husband every day, a loving school for Bodhi and a rent free place to live and learn off grid living.  I have to surrender to the chaos.  I need make peace with the mold spores, the coqui frogs, the bugs, the constant dirt under my toenails, the things that still need to be put away, the age appropriate behavior of my three year old pushing the boundaries and enjoying saying "NO".

 I need to be OK with the pace this is all taking.  A few nights ago I actually sat down and wholeheartedly wished I was Samantha from that old 60's TV show--Bewitched.  Oh to be able to wiggle my nose and have us all unpacked, completely organized and comfortable---priceless.

But no, as Andrew and I have learned, there is a proper pace to all things important.  A pace which allows you to gain clarity, to gain strength, to gain confidence and gratitude.
 
And I am grateful---for the saint that is sleeping upstairs with our son right now.  The lovely man who has had such patience with me as I struggle with myself.

I surrender.  I open up.   I let go.