Month: October 2021

40, A Reflection…

by Ashley filed under Ashley, Motherhood

Society has told me that this is the age I need to fear, the age when I need to start investing in “anti-aging” (as if that’s an actual thing), the age when things start heading downhill, the age when we wish we were young again, the age of midlife crises when some of us may feel compelled to buy fancy cars and toys to remind us – and others – of our importance.

Maybe it’s my age or maybe it’s my life story but I’ve never been more clear-headed or more centered. I’ve come to see myself and, in-turn others, in a way I never have; with curiosity and compassion. I’ve become willing and able to take my own moral inventory and shine a light on my own character defects; dissecting where they came from and how they’ve infiltrated my choices, my actions. I’ve come to see parts of myself as a child who needs my love and acceptance and nurturing. I’ve come to see the child in others, too, that still needs mothering and I can meet it with an openness instead of a judgement. I’ve come to value my role in certain communities and recognize the fact that we need each other not as a weakness but as a gift; I spent my early adult years clawing at independence and today I embrace interdependence.

We move, we shift, we break, we break open, we fold, we bend, we expand, we morph. The only opportunity to truly find ourselves is in the present. It’s all written in sand, waiting to be erased and rewritten. Over and over again.

I recently listened to a guided meditation on impermanence and it talked about how some children cry when a wave washes away their sand castle and how others use it as a blank slate to rebuild again. It presented this idea of how clinging to anything too tightly predisposes one to suffering.

I’m another year closer to death, I’m also the closest I’ve ever been with my authentic self. It’s funny how life wants to chew you up and spit you out just when you feel most alive; I feel like I’m only now coming into my womanhood, my sexuality, my true self — just when life wants to alter me, to devalue me. And yet there’s perks to stepping out of the spotlight we all found ourselves in during our youth; to live quietly on the fringes, in peace, experimenting with life, settling into my center, and not needing the attention of the spotlight or the validation from a society I’m not sure I fit completely in anyway. Life is one big catch 22 and I’m as invigorated as ever to open further.

My brokenness has been my greatest catalyst, an unexpected gift. I think life brings you suffering as a mirror to show you the parts that need tending to. Watching the seeds sprout, noticing my mind shift, witnessing my self-talk change has proven to me that brokenness can also be opportunity in disguise.

I’ve always considered myself to be a late bloomer. Only now, at 40, do I feel like I’m showing up for myself unapologetically with compassion for where I’m at on this journey and for where others are at on this journey, too. Life… it’s wild.

 

Dear Dad…

by Ashley filed under Dad

Today would be your 69th birthday. I’d normally be calling you and reminding you that 69 years ago you were crying like a newborn baby. Tonight we’re getting together and the only person missing will be you.

I can’t tell if I’m tortured by the memory of lying in bed with you as you were dying or if it’s something I’m holding onto so hard, the last memories with you; our last touch… Me stroking your sunken cheeks, scanning your body for the light that once filled it. Your energy, your spirit, leaving before my eyes.

I miss you so much.

The other day you came to me in a dream. I was at a party and you were talking to Hooper in the distance. Your back was to me but I knew it was you instantly. You turned and I ran into your arms. Even in my unconscious state I was conscious of not wanting to wake up. And even after I woke up, all I wanted to do was go back to sleep to find you again.

I think of that part in Beetlejuice where he’s sitting next to that guy with the really small head and all the dead are waiting in line to figure out the whole life of being dead. I had been waiting for you to come to me in a dream — envisioning you on the other side learning how to connect and send messages to the ones grieving your loss.

A few days later Van said you were in his dream, too. I started to laugh and cry thinking of you making your way down the list; meeting us all in the ways we need, in the ways we’re open to seeing you.

It doesn’t feel like enough and it’s easy to fall into the pity of wanting more but that feeling of waking up after seeing you, feeling you, and loving you was complete. And when everything about your death feels like a loss, I’m happy to hold onto that as a gain.

Tonight, we’ll honor you. We’ll fumble, we’ll laugh, we’ll cry. Grief really is just love with nowhere to go. Happy birthday, dad.

Sayulita, 2019

by Ashley filed under Travel

July 2019 | The trip that was never supposed to be. Well, that’s not entirely true. It was supposed to be, just not supposed to be Sayulita. It actually started with tickets to Peru and plans to visit the factory we are not manufacturing with (for The Bee & The Fox). Not to mention Machu Picchu, because how could we not? And all sorts of other dreams and wishes and cute airbnb’s and even dinner plans with some of our manufacturing team on our first night in Lima. Those plans were quickly put to rest when we showed up at LAX – Janet and Carla having already flown down from Seattle – and got turned away at the ticket counter because my passport expires in January of 2020 (apparently Peru has a stipulation that your passport cannot expire within 6 months and I was 4 days – yes, four days – too late). So there we were, Hooper, Van, and Carla backpacks ready and filled with all sorts of warm weather clothes in anticipation of Cuzco’s 30 degree weather. I took one look at J and watched as the look of disbelief was damn near instantly replaced with an excitement. With wild eyes she looked at me and said, “Where to now?”. And just like that we broke into groups. The kids in one huddle throwing out there own ideas of what we could do with the next 10 days. And J and I trying to figure out how to get my dad – who had dropped us off – to come back and swoop us back up. We pondered road trips… countries we haven’t been to in Central America… we looked up costs and flights and soon nailed down our wishlist that consisted of: somewhere warm (because we were both dreading winter in Peru), somewhere affordable, somewhere somewhat close since we had now lost a day (we were boarding the red eye to Peru).

Isn’t there a saying that when no one else wants you, that Mexico will take you? There should be. And so, to Sayulita we went. Last minute trip to Target for J, since she didn’t come swimsuit ready. And we were off.

Or were we? It’s all a blur at this point but all I know is that we were delayed for what felt like ever and if having these huge change of plans wasn’t already mind-numbing enough, this felt like it was going to kill us. That said, there’s something about surviving hardships with your best friend by your side and we were somehow able to laugh as our flight continued to be pushed back due to weather. Being able to go sit down at a restuarant and to come back to find a plane still not boarding felt like a victory. You know, because waiting for a flight with a full belly is greater than waiting for a plane hungry. Silver linings… they’re absolutely everywhere these days and you better believe I’ve got my eyes peeled.

We made it there just after midnight and enjoyed slow mornings and beach filled afternoons and riding around town in our rented golf cart and evening adventures on hidden beaches. It was perfect. Hot and sweaty and bug bitten with grande margaritas most afternoons and too much ice cream and stray dogs we wanted to call our own. A town where the sea stole my sandal in one monstrous wave and my sunglasses broke on day 2. A town painted with color and eager to welcome you, with iguanas in the trees and a calm, steady, rhythm beating in its soul.

Life, they say, can’t always be planned. So you go with it and find that sometimes life has better ideas.

Ain’t that the truth?

Want to hear about how we almost weren’t able to make it to the airport for our flight back because Van was barfing for the second time and couldn’t get out of bed but had a last minute surge of energy but then our flight was canceled anyway – after hours of waiting – and we had to spend another night in Puerto Vallerta and how J had to then change her flight back to Seattle and how that sent a plane full of restless travelers to the same taxi line and then the same hotel where we once again had to wait in line with everyone from our plane and where everything was “all inclusive” except wifi but not excluding the smell in the elevator?

I’ll spare you and end it again with: Life, they say, can’t always be planned. So you go with it and find that sometimes life has better ideas. And the kids… they’re watching us — we can lead with fear, we can lead with anxiety, or we can lead with openness and flexibility.

A date with Sonny…

by Ashley filed under Motherhood, Sonny

Time can feel so scarce in single mama land. Though I’m pretty sure time can feel scarce no matter the motherhood label. I used to do so much on autopilot — bedtime routines, morning routines, after school routines, appointments, activities, check ups… Following my divorce, so much  of life was just about getting through the day, working through the debris. It felt like doing anything mindfully, with intention, was unattainable. I’d pile on the guilt trip, filing it all under the tab of one more thing I should be doing better at.  I willfully submerged myself  into autopilot and fulfilled my own prophecy.

The more healing I’ve done, the more conscious I’m living. It seems like a catch 22 to say that the more time I’ve put into myself, the more time I’ve gotten elsewhere too. Someone I look up to once told me that it’s hard to do the work but it’s harder not to. At the time it felt like she was coming down on me but I knew the way I was living was not cutting it so I leaned into it and she was right; no deposit, no return.

I took Van on a date the other week and yesterday I went out with Sonny. The last time I took him out on a date I remember coming back and telling my mom “never again”. I think back to what made that previous date with him difficult and can’t help but think it was my own rundown tank. Today, my tank is mostly full and I have so much more to give as a result. Yesterday’s date was proof of so much — proof that what you put out to the universe will come back to you in unimaginable ways, proof that it’s hard to make the time but harder not to, and proof that I can show up better for them when I can show up well for myself.

An evening with Sonny, uninterrupted and connected under the moonlight. Trains passing, surfers surfing, and the most appreciative five year old throwing out thank yous and I love yous to remind me that I may not do it all perfectly all the time but whatever I am doing seems to be working just right for us.

Images are shot on my iPhone but I want to remember this day, so never mind the quality.