Magic as Patience

motherhood.

I think how day hides the stars and it reminds me of my life as a mom. Somewhere buried inside is a galaxy of stars I feel never inspire awe. One of two things may happen if this blinding shroud continues – a. the energy of my dreams will cause celestial scale explosions and rend me void of an inner voice, or b. the damned lights will just burn out.

It is true, my insides are screaming for an outlet: productivity, recognition, admiration, applause. And no, scrap booking won’t cut it. My ache is for a substance of greater weight that I can stand back and admire, be proud of. I want it so badly I may create my own big bang of reality and reward.

And then it rained in May. A heavier rain than we usually see in Southern California. Thunder and lightning, clouds and sunlight, water and hail – contrast and metaphor in plain sight.

I decided to move my potted plants from under the eaves and into the rain for deep refreshing and a thorough dusting. My children followed me onto the sidewalk outside our condo and continued to the grassy area around the corner. They began to dance in the rain, to soak themselves in the polarizing forces of indulgence and concern for their uniforms, the laundry they were creating. I let them today, indulge that is, and they ran and played and called down the rain in precious silly dances. I dashed for the camera and an umbrella to catch this unencumbered moment.

The day hides the stars, but rain cleared my view. This was the magic I needed, a constellation of youth – redemption in a frame.