Things come in; things go out. Like your breath, or the tide. This is how harmony works, and the Universe wants harmony.
Building a life, a home, and a family requires taking many things in, while simultaneously releasing others. Motherhood begins as a creation within the body, and receiving the baby (whether from your own body or someone else’s) is an act of balance and surrender – you accept the new life as part of your own and you instinctively shift your prior mindsets and habits. Your home changes – the guest room becomes a nursery and the kitchen counter fills up with drying racks and bottle warmers. Space becomes tighter, as days feel longer, and a new life breathes new air into every corner of every room.
Things come in; things go out.
The other day, I visited my mom and she asked me to change her laundry from the washer to the dryer. As I fumbled around the unfamiliar space, looking for fabric softener on the shelves, I found a large cardboard box filled with sunglasses. My dad owns a printing company and he often comes home with stacks of paper, printed coozies, and sample sweatshirts. The sunglasses were promotional items for an event and these must have been the leftovers. I pulled out a pair and tried them on. I found the fabric softener, and tossed the new sunglasses into my bag. Later that same day, I got ready for a walk through my neighborhood. I put on my tennis shoes and grabbed my old, regular pair of sunglasses from their spot in the car. I put on my headphones and started walking, naturally stepping in sync with the beat. One song into my playlist, I clumsily tripped on literally nothing, and when my body lurched forward, my sunglasses flew off my head and hit the ground. Simultaneously, my right foot stepped directly on them as I awkwardly fought to regain my balance. The whole thing happened in about 5 seconds. I heard crunching and cracking and looked down to see my favorite sunglasses now mangled and unwearable. I picked them up and watched one of the arms dangle and fall off as a final gesture of parting.
Then, I remembered the shiny new pair of sunglasses wrapped neatly in a plastic sleeve in my bag.
The Universe likes to demonstrate her need for balance – so hopefully we’re paying attention. I had to wonder, if I hadn’t grabbed the new sunglasses from that box at my parent’s house, would I have so quickly broken my other pair? Or, was the Universe one step ahead of me, providing me with exactly what I needed, even before I knew I needed it?
We are quick to judge small coincidences as random, but when there are larger ones, like meeting your soulmate when you weren’t even supposed to go out that night, or finding out you are pregnant right before accepting a new job, we have to question whether ALL synchronicities are actually part of a divine plan, no matter how big or small – and, no matter how devastating. After all, if balance exists for our breath, and the tides, and the stages of the moon, then doesn’t it have to exist for sunglasses as well? I don’t think the Universe makes a distinction – if something goes out, something has to come back in.
Balance depends on a Yin and a Yang – creator and receiver, heaven and earth. Just as heaven creates life on earth, as mothers, we are also gifted with the ability to create life. And whether we admit it or not, we are good at it. Even if we have no idea what we are doing (and most of the time it feels like we don’t), our body creates, and the baby arrives. From there, our instincts and our intuition take over, and still, we know what to do.
Discomfort and chaos erupt when things don’t go as planned – when our sunglasses break, we don’t always have a brand new pair waiting for us in our bag. We are impatient. So instead of waiting to receive, and trusting that the Universe will provide, we question our choices. We make changes based on fear and authority. It’s uncomfortable to let something that is familiar go out, and stare into the unknown – the first day of school, moving into a new home, accepting a failed relationship. So instead of transitioning with grace, and moving forward on faith, we resist. We make excuses, we give up, we lose our ability to stand our ground. We hide inside the internet or food or substance.
If you feel like you’re in the middle of losing something, whether it’s something tangible or your own sanity, step back and begin to receive. We can invoke the feminine energy of receiver by writing, lighting a candle, or finally tackling a creative project. Rather than focusing on what is being lost, be open to receiving what is coming in – a new baby, a new life stage. Things go out; things come in. Nothing will be gained, if nothing is lost.