I am in one of my “expansive times.” I feel connected and whole. I feel happy. Amazing how I can feel this way when there is pain in my heart. It reminds me that true happiness is something that I can tap into regardless of the current conditions in my life. And I know that it will change, and I will possible be back in contraction mode some time soon. Not trying very hard to hold on to this feeling, just enjoying it while it’s here. Well, that’s not entirely honest. There is a part of me that wants to hold on to this mood and never let it go.

Tonight I did the single mother’s ritual of taking out the trash. It is one of those things that H used to always do. I think men do tend to take out the trash. And now it is my task. The first time I had to do it, it was hard. But it had to be done. I hauled the trash cans out to the street, inhaling the faint acrid odor of decomposing garbage. But I also was able to notice the wonderful, cool, evening air. I thought about how I am grateful to live in a place where there is proper sanitation. I am so blessed, when so many mothers have to raise their children among filth and disease-ridden conditions. But still there is the mind-stuff that says: I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do this alone. Why do I have to do this alone?

I still forget that I am so not alone, and more help is on the way.

I spent time today with some married friends who have a little guy the same age as Sami. Our paths are now diverging somewhat: they are trying for another baby. And here I am, giving away my baby stuff on freecycle. Sami’s exersaucer is up for grabs and I am trying to decide if I can part with his little butterfly-shaped play gym. A second child feels so far away to me: a possibility, perhaps, but extremely remote. In the meantime, why hang on to all the stuff? I am in a process of releasing, decluttering. Baby gear comes and goes on Craig’s List. Might as well give it to someone who needs it now.

My friend N was lamenting the fact that her H would be away for four days in June. She has never been alone for four days with her son. She said she would be calling me for support. I am glad that I am walking this path, and that I can be there for her.

I know her fear. When I first had to do this, I was absolutely terrified. The fact that some single moms do it alone from pregnancy was not much comfort. I didn’t know any. They were an abstract concept to me. Now I am one of them. I have joined the tribe. So I walk through it, one day at a time, and you know what? It’s not so bad. That is something I can say with complete honesty. It’s usually the case that when I walk through fear, place my feet upon the dreaded path, it’s not so bad.

H has been gone for 3 weeks now, and I was so excited about the fact that he was supposed to be back tomorrow. But his flight is being postponed for a few more days due to circumstances beyond his control. Still, even when he does get back, there will be little of that shared daily rhythm of parenting. There will be phantom moments when we are together with Sami, and it will be reassuring to have him there.

Even though he is no longer mine (who is ever really “ours” anyway?) I feel that we are connected through Sami, of course, but also by a million little invisible gossamer threads that I don’t have the will to cut right now. So I will let them float between us.

*****

Good things are happening.

This is what the universe wants me to know. It was pointed out to me over the course of the week in two separate signs. Literal signs! I’m not talking metaphors here.

The first sign I saw last Tuesday, when I was driving down Georgia Avenue, just south of the Shepherd Park Library. It was a banner, attached to a lamp post.

Georgia Avenue
Good Things Are Happening

How many times have I driven past that sign and didn’t see it? Hundreds, maybe? I had to smile for the duration of the stoplight.

Then I was driving down Blair Road to pick up Sami from daycare on Friday, and I see another sign, this time one for a realtor, with the same slogan: “Good Things Are Happening.”

I was floored. What are the odds?

I feel duty-bound to work with this gift given to me by the gods — a literal signpost: “Good Things Are Happening.” I am coming, slowly, to expect them.

That does not mean that I see with eyes of denial. I will never turn away from the suffering in myself and “out there” in the world, and I will do everything I can to alleviate it. But how many times in my life have I been looking exclusively for the negative, the depressing, the ugly, the upsetting, the terrible? I spent years of my life dwelling in that pit. It did not improve things for myself or anyone else. I am reminded of those lines by Hafiz: “Fear is the cheapest room in the house/I’d like to see you living in better conditions.”

Now, I slowly shift to look for the good in the midst of it all. I am seeing new things. Good things. I’m being shown them, every day.