When I wrote this post yesterday, I knew it was about mothering, and love, and about the wonder that can enter our lives when we stay fully present.
But I didn't realize that it was also about my marriage.
I've been really open about my marriage in this space. In my quest to "keep it real", I've realized that I consistently tell you about the hard and not much about the rest. While much of the sweetness that is my marriage is too special, too ours, to share here, I can't help but notice that while I've shared a handful of tender moments, they're almost always mixed with a heavy dose of hard.
As a self-proclaimed searcher, I'm always looking for the lesson. I want to see how the hard is shaping us, I want to focus on it so I can learn from it; I'm terrified of becoming complacent. But hiding my love under layers of hard isn't the kind of love I want, or the kind of love my husband deserves.
We've worked damn hard to move from The Marriage of Fantasy (in which everything is easy and love is neat) into The Marriage of Reality (in which kids, jobs, and growing up change everything and love looks different than you thought it would). We're in this thing for real now. We know what's at stake and we're in. We've each taken turns at the helm of our little ship, guiding ourselves back to each other again and again because this is where we want to be. And there's a hell of a lot to celebrate in that.
I'm pretty over being so interested in learning that I'm missing out on living.
Enough with all that.
So to my tender, gruff, quiet, funnier-than-most, skilled, poet of a husband: Clear Eyes, Full Heart, Can't Lose, Babe. I will love you to the point of madness (lucky you).