My Rocky Mountain Heart

When someone asks you a question and your response is “I don’t know” it can create a sense of panic and anxiety to figure out a real answer. It creates a deep sense of uncertainty and an internal dilemma. And the truth is, that when people ask me about if we are going to have kids or not, the real answer is, “I don’t know.” 

I’m trying to get comfortable with that answer but to be honest, those words make me cringe a little inside. Because even though of course we don’t have control over what does or does not happen in our lives, knowing what we want certainly brings some sense of clarity, purpose or calmness to us. But when you really don’t know, how are you supposed to sit with that? How do you get comfortable with the very thing that makes you incredibly uncomfortable? 

The answer for me? Again, I don’t know. I try writing, meditation, prayer, reading, staring…and then I simply come back to surrender. I have to surrender to God and to the universe. I have to admit that I need clarity and comfort in this part of my journey. And mainly that I need space. 

Space.

So much space. 

Space to breathe.

Space to cry.

Space to be angry.

Space to grieve.

Space to feel.

Space to hurt. 

Space to let it out. 

Space to create openness.

Space to invite in the new.

Space for discovering the next turn on my path. 

Space for more joy.

I made a new vision board a few weeks ago. The old fashioned way: magazines, glue stick, scissors and mod podge! It was so gratifying to create this vision for my future and also to see that I’m leaving a bit more space than I have in the past. What do I mean? Well, if you look closely at the bottom in the middle, you will see a picture of an incomplete puzzle – with missing pieces and open space – space to see how it all comes together. You see, we all have a plan of how we put a puzzle together, right? Many of us look for the corners first, and then all the straight edges to create the border. Then we look for distinct features in the puzzle to work on the inner part. But it gets HARD when you get to those parts of the puzzle that don’t have a lot of color or the pieces all look the same…suddenly the plan becomes: TRIAL AND ERROR. And that’s the same space of “I don’t know” answers. 

But what I’m learning is that that’s okay! It’s okay not to know. It’s okay to operate in life out of trial and error. It’s okay to just look at the incomplete puzzle and stare for awhile, pondering which piece you are going to pick up next. Or maybe you even need to leave the puzzle be for a minute and just go outside and soak up some fresh air. After all, there is no prize for completing the puzzle first, or even completing it at all. It’s more about the enjoying process and watching it all come together. 
So are we going to have kids? 

I don’t know. 

I guess I just have to see which piece fits into the puzzle next…