Whole

Sometimes at the end of a week, I am not whole.  Some part of me is drained or lacking, missing or less functioning. Sometimes it comes from missing my husband and his companionship as co-pilot-parent and my compensation of his absence.  Sometimes it is from hopelessness in things I want so badly for me and my family that require constant work and dedication.  Sometimes it is from comparing myself, from trying to live up to false expectations.

At some point in contemplating my incompleteness, I stop, leaving my personal analysis for a moment.  Something from the other room distracts me--

Singing, gabbing, cooing: sounds of little confident people.  People that don't even know what it means to be discouraged, or not whole.  People who don't even know what it means to judge or compare, fear or feel loss.

I leave my emotional baggage exactly here I left it, dust myself off, and force myself to jump into the mix and sing along.  This time whole-heartedly.  This is where daily healing is simplest, where I'm always welcomed back.