You really don’t know what living inside a moment you prayed for feels like, until your middle child who turned 7 two weeks ago, is running full speed toward you, around a pond, with the trout he just caught. You can literally see his heels clicking as he runs through tall grass and muddy hills, more excited than you’ve ever seen him on Christmas morning. Because he’s so excited to show you. Because you’re his mom. Because you’ve made everything good he’s ever done such a big deal. Because it ✨is✨such a big deal. Or after you’ve had a long, much needed cry, and your oldest son comes in from outside and hugs you without ceasing. Holding on longer, and breathing and squeezing that hug with you. And you hug until you both realize how much you needed that hug from eachother. How proud you feel that he knows empathy, and embodies it. Or when you can’t help but scoop your youngest up into your arms every chance you get, and kiss her sweet face, and study her finger nails on her tan little hands that have lost the baby chub forever. She’s officially 5. It’s close to midnight on the eve of her birthday, and I can’t help but stay awake and watch her sleep. How did we get to five? How have the years that have felt like quick sand and a sand timer get to this point this fast?

I’ve been experiencing a creativity block of sorts, and this has never happened to me. I love to write and create and get things out of my body in the way that they don’t belong to me. So I can share them with people who can relate to a shred of what I’m rambling on about. I’ve been praying every morning before I get out of bed, and meditating and manifesting before I reach for my phone. At night, I love talking to God before I fall asleep, asking him to keep the people I love safe and with peace and happiness in their souls and love inside their hearts. I just want everyone I love to feel free from anxiety; and be filled with peace so they can have a life that’s long and rich with experiences and joy and so much love.

People love complicating things. Humans are so lucky yet we are all so stupid. Recently I shared a gem with someone and I’m gonna share it here with you, too. I read somewhere once, that we are the universe experiencing itself.

How beautiful.

What a simple, amazing gift.

To be able to experience heaven and hell all in one lifetime is a privilege. It means we are alive. It means we can choose more heaven than hell. We just have to figure out how.

We stopped celebrating birthdays last year because we were sick of the stress and drama birthday parties bring. We stuck to our guns, and we just completed our third trip for our baby girl, and when I say we squeezed the last drop out of every moment and accepted every adventure, and tried to say yes more than we said no; we squeezed hard.

We created those core memories everyone talks about. Where a beautiful memory seeps into a regular moment, and it’s a little fuzzy, but you know it was real. And you may have been a little too small to recall, or a little too young to remember, but it lives inside your bones and runs through your blood and erupts out of your eyes in the drop of a tear that tastes like salt and you, for a moment remember how simple life is supposed to be.

And now we get to create those little slide shows inside our own children’s heads and hope to God they remember all the good and that any of the bad was used in a way where they learned. The conversations by the fire at night, the long walks to lively ponds, diving and swimming and jumping into a crystal clear neon pool; under the tallest and greatest most perfectly placed trees that frame a gorgeous night sky speckled with stars that seem a little more sparkly up here in the Adirondacks. And when you look up together, you all agree in the silence of a Sunday night campground that we can all be better. Yes even 5 year olds. And 65 year olds, too. We can all be better.

The key to teaching our kids how to treat their futures is by treating their now. Encouraging conversations, learning communication skills, the importance of a genuine apology. The beauty of forgiveness, and the peace it can bring. Also to know when they don’t get an apology, to forgive anyway, but not too many times. To run toward adventure and away from anything that feels stagnant. To keep fresh eyes turned toward the future, and a heart that’s open to all the love the world has to offer. To know their soul is worth showing and sharing with someone who understands its sacredness. Encouraging them to love, to live, and to know who they are.

With all that to say, I am far from the person I hope to be when I’m only a memory. I hope to always remember how small I am, but never take that for granted either. I pray that my kids always know to put themselves first, but that they know when to be selfless too. I pray they know love in many forms. I pray they can know how to live in a moment, and be happy for what it’s worth. I pray they know when to let go and let God. I pray that they feel peace and that their innocence lasts forever. I hope they never need to know a cold world, and to always know their worth. I hope they know how much I love them, even when I get it wrong. And God knows I get it wrong.

Here’s my point – do it. Stand alone, stand up for yourself, stand in your beliefs. Stand in love. Stand in your faith. And then go forward. Scared, sad, unsure, just keep going. I promise you’ll figure it out. And your kids are watching, so remember to be kind 🤍