She requests a beautiful calming shade of blue.
She is her mother’s daughter.
As we stand there she begins to peel back the peace sign and owl decals from the wall.
Peeling back the layers that have brought us to our arrival here, in this point in time.
She’s leaning into her coming of age gently and slowly.
I’m leaning into the art of letting go.
I was never one for letting go.
In my younger years I associated letting go with giving up.
This amazing beautiful and hard life has taught me the art of letting go.
The lessons in letting go came in an insanely big way.
Thank you Universe, I get it.
As she continues to peel, my mind goes to the first day of first grade.
My mom and I were on a secret mission.
We dropped her off at school and booked it to Target to get everything we needed to redecorate her room.
No more Fancy Nancy room.
She arrived home to a completely new “big girl” room covered in peace signs, owls and birds with paisley bedding.
Very fitting for the old soul that she is…my little hippie at heart.
We rearranged and redecorated at top speed.
We sipped iced coffees and giggled about how excited she’d be.
My mom talked about never getting to do this kind of thing for me.
I reminded her that Brea was her chance for a do-over.
Something I teased her about quite often.
As she places her roller on the wall and makes the first streak of primer to cover the lavender my mind flashes back to a decade ago.
I designed her nursery.
It became my sanctuary while she was nestled snug in my womb.
I would retreat to that room under the heavy sickness of pregnancy.
I would rock in the chair in the corner, daydreaming about what it was going to be like to be her mommy.
She interrupts my thoughts when she nods to her window and asks, “how would you feel about me taking those down?”
It’s her sun catcher collection that she started when she was less than two years old.
Every trip we took we had to find a sun catcher to hang in the window of her room.
I snap a picture of the window and slowly remove the sun catchers.
One by one I take them down and mindfully hold them in my hand, remembering each trip.
I wash the windows.
How fitting that we would spend the entire week leading up to this day clearing out her space of all things “babyish”.
Once it’s complete I take a step back and stare at it from the door.
I breathe it in.
I spent the entire day clearing and cleaning so that I could breathe today.
I don’t function well in clutter and chaos.
The house was close to spotless when I saw it on her desk.
A small ceramic dish we had literally just cleaned out.
It was now filled with multi-colored rice, shells and a fairy.
I immediately got annoyed thinking, “why can’t the house stay clean for 5 minutes?!”
I took the dish over to her and asked, “Brea, what is this?”
She looked at it and smiled real big, “Oh that’s just a zen garden I made for my babies!”
I look down at the dish in my hand and immediately see what I was unable to see just one minute prior.
An adorable little colorful garden.
An instant reminder to breathe and look more closely.
I’m also reminded that yes, she is growing up so fast, however she is still so young.
I feel tearful because I’m overjoyed that the really grown-up talks we’ve had lately are balanced with the fact that she still plays with dolls.
I’m immediately grateful that I didn’t use my annoyed mommy tone when I asked her what it was.
I was once so high strung and full of expectations.
Expectations that would leave me so disappointed when they were not met.
These days I’m mastering the art of letting go.
If the past few years have taught me anything, it’s that the harder I hold on, the more I’ll be forced to let go.
I have long since released my expectations of others and I’m working on releasing my overwhelming unrealistic expectations of mySelf.
I’ve released what I think things should look like, instead I embrace situations and people as they are.
If I’m unable to embrace it, I walk away, realizing that expectations no longer serve me, but accepting everything as it is does.
Any time I struggle with this notion I take a deep breath and pause.
Being reactive in the moment no longer serves me either.
Let go and let flow.
Time and circumstances have changed me and I’m so full of gratitude for it.
The passing of time has softened my edges.
The process of letting go has given me a level of patience and perspective unlike anything I have ever experienced.
There is so much inner peace.
Truly.
“You should come snuggle with me in my bed”, she says to me this morning as I sit here typing and sipping the coffee she brought me.
I immediately get up to join her, in her bed, that is now in the corner where the rocker used to be.
I breathe it in.