midweek messiness and lives lived, loved.

When I think of the last 7 days I feel exhausted. I walked into last week tired. and very whiny. I felt the full load of end of school year busy making,  the field trips, and sick children.  My house, cluttered with projects brought home from school and the never ending frustration with the last bits of homework battles. I was tired. messy beyond compare.  

But then after Friday, I wasn't sure what to feel.  My whining and exhaustion were put into focus; messiness mattered not, loving the boys to bits did. 

Yet at the same time, instead of exhaustion from busy boy filled days, I felt the exhaustion from the fear of the unknown and the sadness for the families who lost loved ones. So I do what I always do if I don't want to curl up into a ball and never let the children out the front door again, I process: Writing helps (it irons out the creases of worry in my soul). Running helps (pounding out the fear and the anger on the pavement).  Talking helps (finding out that other's were just as fearful and worried as you).  But it was such a tumultuous, bone-quaking fear-filled event, that I also took solace in knowing distance and time will help as well.

Then yesterday, the morning of the last day of school for the boys, there was another shooting. Gang violence.  A block from my oldest's school. A block from the place of the shooting on Friday.  As the helicopters swirled around and around, I couldn't help feel frightened, again. Though we quickly found out that everyone we knew was safe (there was no school wide lockdown), I couldn't help bite back tears that stung around the edges of my eyes from the low hum of worry. I shook all morning. Too many thoughts churning in my soul... It seems life has its tattered edges of messiness and worry despite my very best efforts to clean things up and make the boys' world feel safe.    

But then, after school, we went to the beach. 

Unplanned or not, there were so many families from my boys' schools there. And as I plopped our blanket down and stretched out our towels, I looked around.  Of the multitudes around me, I recognized almost every single one. 

And so. 

and so the ocean met us.  the ocean met us on the edges of our humanity. we felt the wind whip our hair, and the tightness and anger in our chests abate.  as far as the eye could see, our children were building sandcastles and running in and out of the waves.  we were a heart beat of hope thudding across the sand, a giant lung-ed breath breathing together,  living our lives and loving our children. 

the blurred dotted spots of self, our souls, danced in the full joy of knowing, that in this moment, a small collective of us would not stay home and hide, that we made it to somewhere that day; we made it to the shore. 

and in the scattered pull of the earth, the hearts tugged and tied tight on the kite string were set free. and we could once again tumble in and out of hope. forever on and ever so brief, down there. 

down there were the ocean met us, and collapsed our worry (bringing it out and losing it as sea).

 down at the shore. 

love you all dear friends, all near and far, new and old. love.love.love.