Posts Tagged ‘fate’

The Last Family

March 4, 2017

My friend said this to me tonight.

And he’s right.

My current family is probably going to be my last family.

It is with some disbelief that I said it, but really, I knew it when I started, that they could very well be the last family I nanny for.

They want me for four years.

That will get me all the way through grad school.

Masters and Doctorate.

Doctor Carmen.

I like how that sounds.

Actually.

I fucking love how that sounds.

And I love that this is my last family.

I also love this family.

I really do.

They are fierce, funny, smart, good-hearted and generous, and that’s just the kids.

I got my first baby smile today from the new-born, who, I suppose is not quite so new, being three months today, but still, such a smile.

Made my heart melt.

Plus.

I had just a total scrumptuous day with the little lady.

We went down town, which I might have nixed had I known that there was a conference happening at the Moscone Center, and had a day at the Children’s Creativity Museum that is just behind Yerba Buena Gardens.

We took the J-Church train downtown and got to stroll around and enjoy the weather.

Sunny today.

Rain tomorrow.

Focused on the sun.

So nice to be out in the day and have a fun time at the museum.

And the carousel.

The LeRoy King carousel.

Such a treat.

In fact.

We rode it five times.

The joy on that child’s face was and is indescribable.

I took so many pictures.

None of which I will post here, no pictures of my charges, but safe to say, it was joy, unadulterated sunshiny joy.

We had so much fun.

We ran around the museum.

We went to the Play Circle Park, where the giant slides are.

If you have not been to the Play Circle Park you definitely need to check it out, giant slides, need I say more?

We actually left the museum and park for lunch, normally we would have just eaten at the museum cafe, but because of the conference, it was packed.

Thankfully I know the downtown a little bit and steered us just a tiny bit off the beaten path of the Moscone Center and we hit a nice little cafe for a big grilled cheese for her and a chopped salad for me.

Then.

Yes.

My charge convinced me, and hey, it is Friday, so, fuck it, one more spin on the carousel.

We negotiated one more trip through the museum, mostly to use the bathrooms and she wanted more entry/exit stamps, but skipped the giant slides at the park to take the carousel one last time before heading back.

It was the best time to catch the carousel too.

There was a group of people from the conference on the carousel and they had bought so many rides that we got to take a double long ride.

She was over the moon.

“This is so much fun!” She exclaimed.

She rode three different horses.

A camel.

A giraffe.

And was just a tiny bit disappointed that there were no unicorns.

I mean.

I can understand that.

Or dogs.

“Why no dogs, Carmen?” She asked me, searching through the ranks of animals on the poles ready to have a leg swung over and hopped onto.

“Good question love, I don’t know, but there’s a lion, want to try that?”

And she did.

And it was good.

God.

It was good.

It was good to ride the train back to her house, to push the stroller up the hill, exercise, yah, and to punch in the code to the garage, to fold down the stroller (now that I finally know the trick to collapsing it) and put on a kettle to boil for tea.

I took in the view from the back, it’s an entire wall of glass with a view of the downtown and to smile at my happiness at my job.

I really feel pretty fucking lucky.

I do.

So when my friend mentioned that tonight, “the last family,” it really hit me how far I have come and all the work I have done to be where I am.

Ten years or so ago a friend reached to me and said, “hey you need some extra cash? ¬†I need help at the Burning Man offices on Wednesday nights, there’s a board meeting and I have class, can you come down and take care of J_________ for an hour and a half, two hours tops?”

I said yes.

And though I did not realize it then.

I never looked back.

I relieved my friend her nanny shift every Wednesday for months, occasionally helping the mom and dad she worked for too with a date night.

Then.

I nannied the regional event at the office and then the Christmas party.

And that’s where I met her.

My first love.

She was just six weeks old and I remember how my heart was smote and the thought came where there certainly had not been thought before, “I want to be her nanny.”

As luck would have it.

Fate.

God.

What have you.

I was asked to be that little baby girl’s temporary nanny.

Then.

Eventually I got to nanny for her and another family.

I had a key to the office and would often be there first before any one else got there.

I would lock up my bike in the bottom of the building, climb the stairs, turn on the lights in the kitchen and make a pot of coffee.

I would wander around and look at the art on the walls and the sculptures.

I would tidy up.

I would receive my charges and my day would start.

I could not fathom then the ten years that would follow.

I could not express to myself how amazing the job, and hard, so horrendously hard (when I made it so), but so fulfilling too, yes, to get paid for loving a child is such a gift.

Oh.

Sure.

Teething, tantrums, poopy diapers, potty training, running out of milk, late parents with car trouble, not getting paid enough, being treated like the help (most of my families did not do this, but I had a few that did, grateful I learned how to leave jobs that weren’t a good fit for ones that were), long ass hours.

And then.

The hugs.

The snuggles.

The dance parties.

Oh.

My.

The dance parties.

So many.

The warm soft, sweet bread baked smell of sleeping children.

I remember being in the nursery at the Burning Man offices and I was sitting in the dark with the door open.

I had two babies sleeping on me, one on my right shoulder, one in the lap against my right side, and the office dog, a little three-legged guy, Ralph, that would occasionally herd the toddlers around the office zocalo, nestled next to me, all curled up and asleep.

One of the office managers walked by and did a double take.

“Do you just ooze maternal?” He asked incredulous.

Maybe.

I don’t know what it is, but I am grateful for it and all the tender, sweet moments that I have had.

They are not done yet, but I see a change coming and it is with much gratitude that I reflected on my career, the unexpected career, never ever said to myself I want to be a nanny when I grow up, and all the joy it has brought me.

I am a very, very lucky girl.

I mean.

Really.

Who gets paid to ride carousels?

I do.

That’s who.

I do.

Luckiest girl in the world.

 

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Sweet, Soft, Surrender

June 20, 2016

I mean.

I could have struggled with it all today.

But.

I just gave up.

Got up.

Went the fuck to yoga.

My brain was jacked up this morning, sometimes I wonder if it ever really sleeps.

The constant plotting.

However.

I am grateful I got up.

I was thinking that I might not make it to yoga this morning or today at all, considering how late I was up last night and then, I might feel bad and bash myself for staying up late.

It didn’t happen that way at all.

Instead I just rolled over, got up, drank some iced coffee, made my bed, said the stuff, asked for the willingness to show up to the mat, the day, my noon get together and read with my lady person, and then to have a good day, to show up for my recovery, where ever and however that looked like.

And then I went to yoga.

Happy to be there, getting into it, letting my body be there, watching my thoughts drift in and out, the specious way some want to stick and have me obsess over them, and the ease with which I was able to let things go once I was in my body and in my breath.

It was a good class and some times, most times, I show up with expectations.

Today marked four months of showing up for the mat.

Not always real happy about it when I’m on my way there, but always happy when I leave.

Sometimes there is a hope for some sort of breakthrough with my body and how it moves.

But often times.

It is that I am seeking something else.

A drift in the senses and loosened in my body, the spirit enters and I am gone into this other place.

I can become a spiritual seeker of experience.

Yesterday it happened and it was during the final sitting meditation and it was mostly just being so awesomely in my body and in my person, I felt on fire, the heat in my body rising up through the palms of my hands and in my chest and heart, lifting out of me and burning bright, hot, incandescent.

Flash bombed into the present, rocketed forward, set afire and cast upon the sea to burn like a candle in a cup at low tide on a full mooned night.

Today I had a vision.

I swear I only had iced coffee before class.

Really.

Anyway.

I felt love and sensed that there was a shift, something moving in me, something changing, that I was moving forward towards this great ball of sun, this ineffable, unavoidable collision with someone.

I had the awareness of meteors streaking past.

Men and dating and relationships.

One of the comets had little black framed glasses and I remember turning in the vision for a moment, watching him streak away from me.

I realized it was here.

This thing, this love, this moment, hurtling through space and there was nothing to do, nowhere go, so big, so vast, so all encompassing this experience that I could not avoid it.

“Look up, look out, look right in front of you, it is there,” I heard this calm, centered, even and candid voice, I looked in and out and there again, the ball of sun, this gigantic star of light and fire and heat and I had nothing to do but take care of myself.

It will happen when you least expect it, when you’re not looking for it.

I realized.

I don’t have to look.

I don’t have to struggle.

It is there and all I have to do is keep doing the deal for myself and love myself and like the warm sun on my face I would arrive exactly where I was supposed to be with whomever I was supposed to be there with.

No need to worry.

No cause for anxiety.

A sweet, soft surrender, the smooth satiny nacre of the shell I found on the walk I had this afternoon at the beach, the touch of it so seductive I kept my thumb there where the rough shell had been chipped away to reveal the pearlescent core underneath, an utterance of joy on my mouth, the cold wash of the water over my feet, the wind in my curls and the sun on my face.

Nothing wrong.

All is good.

Contentment layered over me wrapped me up in downy soft feathers of light and I drifted down the beach like the curls of foam pushed by the waves.

I was bathed in light today.

Warmth.

Summer.

Sunshine.

I am brown and honey gold and slightly freckled.

And quite pink with my curly bouquet of new hair color, which would amuse me with it’s bright scintillating magenta out of the corner of my eye, stopping to wave a a little girl toddling down toward the sea with her shovel, her face a goggle with curiosity at the sight of my corona of pink curls splashing about my happy face.

I smiled.

She smiled back at me.

There was the soft goodbye, the meander down the beach, the couple holding hands and bent over gathering shells and rocks from the incoming tide.

There was the sweet missive, the opening of heart, the ending of silence, the negotiation of sunlight in my soul and letting go of a soft sorrow I had not even realized was lying on my heart.

My laughter in the back yard as I talked with my person and got some suggestions and then using them and they worked!

The remonstrances of my heart melted away and the day was new and bright.

I sat on the back porch and ate my lunch, bare feet up on the wrought iron patio chair, eyes closed, the great red fire rose of sun blossoming on the insides of my eyelids.

Just here.

Love.

Always here.

Love.

Just look up.

Look out.

Waiting for you.

Walking toward you.

Inescapable joy.

And.

Freedom.

Release from sorrow and the quiet, sure knowing that as I hurtle toward that unknown destiny, love carries me through everything I need to experience to get me to exactly where I am supposed to be.

I suppose some might call that Fate.

Or.

Superstition.

Some might argue that I have no free will.

I, rather will say.

It is just faith.

Love.

Grace.

Love.

It is just love.

Love.

Aways there.

Always that.

Always.

Love.


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