Yesterday was the second time in two weeks that I attended grown-up events. This has shaken me up a bit. Last night I went to a baby shower and going away party for my friend L, who is almost 7 months pregnant and moving to CA. It was so joyous to celebrate with her. I organized the making of a labor necklace for her, and everyone went around and infused a bead with their blessings. That is a ritual that meant so much to me when I was beginning labor, and I hope it will be the same for L. L and I have known each other for seven years, and we have been through so much. We have worked together and played together and read poetry together and painted doors crazy colors. I feel grief at her leaving, but at the same time I feel so deeply connected to her, no matter where her physical body happens to be. I hope that she can feel the spirit of her friends and family with her as she prepares to give birth to her baby and to join me on the other side of the abyss, the abyss of motherhood.

The experience was also a bit surreal. I felt myself stepping into another world…the world I used to inhabit pre-Sami. The air was filled with smoke of all kinds, people were drinking (there was even a kegger!!), and I got quite dizzy with the energy of intoxication. These days I am very sensitive to that energy. I am sort of attracted and repelled simultaneously. I felt the stirrings of the “old me” who is quite alive and well in there. The one who used to drink and smoke and party with the best of ‘em.

I could sense a few men at the party treating me with extra special care reserved for women whom they find attractive. Offering me their seats and things like that. I am still pretty young, and I am told that the weight loss makes me look younger. I feel beautiful and maybe even kind off sexy. Perhaps I should have felt beautiful and sexy at 200 plus pounds, and at times I did. I should have loved myself unconditionally, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t get comfortable enough in my body to do so.

I know that I have to be careful about that sexual energy. As I have posted before, I feel the pull to recklessness…I want to pick up a man like I used to pick up cigarettes or food. I want to consume and be consumed. But I know that is not the path for me. It’s like coming to a fork in the road, and all signs point, “THIS WAY!!!” but there is a boisterous and noisy back alley Red Light District that looks totally enticing, and wants me to go down it.

My life now is so…clean. So…wholesome. As it should be. I spend my time praying and meditating and playing with my son. I work and I write and I dream. I love the company of my friends, but after being Sami’s mom, I find I have little energy left for the outside world. When Sami is asleep or not around, my pursuits are largely quiet and the journey is inwards.

When I think about loudly spitting poetry, like I used to, I just… can’t. The force simply is not there. I am soft and gentle and receptive. I will read poems, and share them with you. I am happy to do that… but I am no longer much of an in-your-face person. I tried to explain that to some of my old spoken world compatriots last night, and I felt like I was apologizing somehow for my path. There is no need to justify or apologize. Inner or outer, the journey is the same. We are all and always heading home.

Speaking of home, my acupuncturist on Friday gave me a gentle suggestion: to breathe more often and deeply. She is right: so often I forget to breathe. I breathe enough to sustain my life, obviously, but it is so often quite shallow. The meditation instructions I have been given say to follow my breath, but not to alter it in any way. Just to work with the natural, simple, breath.

But I think a parallel track is to take as many opportunities as possible to deepen my breath. To practice a sort of reverse tonglen. While the traditional tonglen practice of breathing in suffering and sending out peace seems beautiful and powerful, right now it doesn’t feel right to take in suffering.

Perhaps I am misunderstanding it, but currently, tonglen feels scary to me. Right now I want to breathe in the light and to exhale darkness. I want to let the breath nurture me and heal me. That is what I need right now. I want to breathe in peace and joy and acceptance on the inbreath, and on the outbreath, release all that doesn’t serve me anymore. To breathe in health and to breathe out toxicity. I trust that the Universe will take it and dispose of it in such a way so that no one else is harmed with it. Maybe after doing this practice for a while, I will feel strong enough to do traditional tonglen.

I hung out with my friend M tonight, a single mama to a two year old girl. She often suggests to her daughter to take some deep breaths when she is upset, and she herself does the same. I too, think this is a practice is one I would like to take on fully, so I can teach it to Sami authentically, by example.

I will let this breath hold me as I long to be held. There is room enough in the lap of my spirit to contain it all: all the longings, the shame, the resentment, the rage, the excitement, the joy, and the peace. Wild Woman and Dharma Mom co-exist there. All the seeming contradictions are meaningless in the lap of my spirit. There is no piece that is left out or unworthy of love.

With each breath, I embrace myself a little more tenderly.