Motherless daughters...a welcoming home.

Did I give enough space for her to grow or did I push her out of my nest so I could fly? My boundaries built too high, too rigid for her to see her path whilst I search for mine. My home, my rules, my time...perhaps why she keeps coming back to have me throw her out again and again, set up to fail of my creation or her self sabotage? She's waiting for the change in me, for my acceptance of her need to be the mess she is, held safe until she can breathe her own air, grow her own feet.

So I still myself, I sit with her giving no direction, asking no...demanding not to know her steps, just with in awkward silence. From darkened depths, I saw a surface she swam me back, a familiar atmosphere where we connect...honest, raw expression of love, hate, laughter, of sheer joy in the family we are where freedom is found at least to speak our truths if not live. In finding my own mother, I found hers. Her home in my heart, my home, my heart wide enough for us both to beat in tune our own unique being. Simplicity in all its complexity, rest is arrived.