let the light in

I crack open the blinds to discover what I had anticipated. Sun. Light streaming in through the window, I quickly open all the blinds to let more of it in, until the house is alive with sun, until sun sheds its light on me.

I’m startled by Benjamin’s appearance, his hand on my arm. I didn’t hear him come down the stairs. Hair rumpled and face still soft with sleep he says, “Mommy, my chest hurts.”

I bend to him, my ear to his chest, “Okay, take a deep breath.”

Ben’s small chest rises and falls. “Another breath. Really big.”

There it is. A faint rattle. “Alright, go grab your blue puffer.”

I tidy the kitchen and Ben returns. He holds up two fingers. “I took one, two puffs.”

I ask, “How do you feel?”

He shrugs.

“Well, why don’t you get changed and we’ll see how you feel in a few minutes.”

It’s time to begin a new day, a new week and I don’t feel ready. I’ve filled out school field trip forms, called the pharmacy to refill Ben’s prescription and lunches are made. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.

I woke up to anxiety, my eyes snapping open at 5am. I showered, hoping worry would wash away.  I carried anxiety down the stairs and tried to put it down, to leave it with my laundry as I stuffed it into the washer, to place it on the counter with the dishes, but it clung to my chest and furrowed my brow.

I need to breathe. Just breathe.

I gaze out the windows and I take stock. I’m stressed. I’m waiting. Are my kids okay? Is Annie doing too much? Money’s tight. March is busy already. What am I doing? What am I doing? Good things are coming. They have to be, right?

“Benjamin, how are you feeling?”

He’s at the dining room table crafting, assembling a small house made of foam. “This is making me feel so much better.”

I smile and kiss the top of his head, bury my nose in his bedraggled hair inhaling the scent of him – of shampoo and little boy. What is that saying? Life is what happens while you’re waiting.

I look up.

Through the blinds, through the glass there is sun, blue sky, glory.

I draw a deep breath. A little anxiety falls to the floor.

I want; I need to let the light in. And when I do I feel so much better.

Swept up
In The Civil Wars
I love all kinds of music, but I especially love music that makes me feel and these guys make me feel. One of my favorite songs of theirs is Poison & Wine. Check it out here.

15 thoughts on “let the light in

  1. Jen

    This reminds me of my favorite leonard Cohen quote ” there is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” thanks for the reminder to breathe, and let our worries go. I need to hear that regularly!

    Reply
    1. heidi

      Hi Jen! Love, love that quote. And love Cohen.
      I had to give myself a pep talk this morning to stop freaking out. It’s better though and spring break should help. I hope. ;)

      Reply
    1. heidi

      Galit, I have been a worrier since, well, forever. And it’s tough to shake. I’m trying, though. Always trying.
      Thank you. I’m so happy to have found you! Or rather to have been introduced to you…either way…I’m happy. :)

      Reply
  2. Rita

    Your post this week really resonated with me, Heidi. (Although they always do, and most especially the one about our reuniting!) I have been waking up with anxiety the last few days as well. Yesterday I put it out there — to God, the Universe, my soul — and said ‘I’m feeling anxiety. I’m not sure why, but I accept it. Send me a sign or message to help me understand it and where it’s coming from.’ And, well, your blog posting appeared, the link to that stunning song, the first comment (by Jen), reminding me of the Cohen quote, as well as reminders to breathe. Thanks to you both and to messages from all around me. Thanks for reminding me that we are all connected, that we share energy. xo

    Reply
    1. heidi

      Isn’t that a gorgeous song?? I’m a little in love with it.
      So true about being connected…it’s a good reminder for me. Thank you, friend.
      Are you so excited about Friday?! Because I am!!

      Reply
  3. Alexandra

    This happens to me too.

    You too? That makes me sad.

    I was laying awake last week: my littlest with a very high fever, and my middlest with pneumonia, and my oldest with his asthma kicking in.

    I lay in bed: worry worry worry.

    I prayed: I was blessed with thoughts of peace.

    I have to work at it. It takes SO MUCH work for me not to worry.

    I worry. I lay in bed and worry.

    I must stop.

    I’ll help you.

    Reply
  4. heidi

    It takes great effort on my part too not to worry. I come by it honestly – my mom is a worrier. :)

    Your boy has asthma…so does mine. That’s another kind of worry, isn’t it? I’m sorry to hear your other son is sick. I hope he heals quickly! I’m still surprised at the power worry holds when it involves my kids. It’s hard to shake.

    I think knowing I’m not alone helps. Not that I want anyone to be burdened by anxiety, but just to know someone else who gets it makes me feel better. To be understood. I’m glad you’re out there and thank you for letting me in to your worry. Hopefully we can get through and get to the other side. I wish you much, much peace and rest today, friend.

    Reply
  5. Jennifer

    Gorgeous song, Heidi. I’ve never heard it before.

    The worry! Oh, the worry.

    It is dark in the worry places. Your struggle is my struggle, too.

    Your idea of letting the light in is so brilliant and peaceful.
    XO

    Reply
  6. christy

    Ooh I loved this too. I hate feeling weighted down with worry. So much.

    And YES!!! Absolutely good things are on the way for you. I feel it in my bones.

    Reply

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