How many times in our lives do we get up and begin again?
I had an experience last year in Hawaii that was the ultimate Begin Again and now when I feel daunted by newness and by the get-up-and-brush-yourself-off, I think of this magical moment. If beginning again can feel magical, I can release the “what ifs” and fear associated with it and rest into the opportunity.
We were driving on a windy hilly, lush road on Maui when we passed by a nursery and Gideon said he wanted to check it out. I didn’t really understand why. I mean, we weren’t exactly buying plants while on vacation. We decided to check it out for a few minutes and, as soon as I walked in, I had a strong intuition there was a message there for me. Note: This whole intuition/sign/message thing was fairly new to me, but I went with it.
It was on this vacation that something came alive in me for the first time since my mom had died 6 months prior. It was also the first time since having Zeke that I felt excited and ready to try for another child, but I’d said to Gideon just a day or 2 before that I was looking for a sign.
To be clear, I’d never said “I want a sign” about anything before that day, but I became that person and it felt so right.
As soon as we walked into the nursery, which btw, was the most gorgeous, meandering, tropical space I’d ever seen, I knew. My sign was here. We walked, checking out all the plants, little rooms, water features and then we stumbled upon a reiki master offering short sessions. She specialized in working with children and Zeke immediately gravitated towards her. Was this the sign? No, not yet. While Zeke and Gideon spent time with her and her cute puppies, I continued on. It felt as if I was being guided.
I walked and breathed. I took it all in. I turned into another room and saw the beautiful invitation below. Was it this space? Was I meant to sit in one of these chairs for a meditation? It seemed so inviting and no one else was around.
But just to the right of this space was a door. It looked like it was just going to their “backyard”— to a storage space perhaps, but I went with it.
I opened the door to a path and felt pulled.
A whisper from the trees drew me in.
I walked, slowly. My eyes started to fill with tears. I was both a bit nervous and filled with wonder about what lay ahead.
And there it was.
The message: Begin Again.
And when I looked beyond the rock, a labyrinth. Okay, I know this is intense, but you can’t make this stuff up! This happened and at this point I was crying and laughing all at the same time.
And then… a labyrinth.
In our Birthing from Within birth education class, we talked about birth being a labyrinth. The idea is that no matter how the unfolds, you cross a threshold with the birth of a new life. I’d say this goes for becoming a mother in any way, death, and those few moments in life that we mark by thinking of life before it happened and after it happened. But for me, the labyrinth symbolism is associated with birth.
You enter one version of yourself and come out anew. My journey of birth and death has been just that.
I walked the labyrinth, crying, overcome with emotion— every emotion! I’ll never forget this casual visit to a nursery in Maui. And we didn’t even buy any plants!
With each miscarriage, with the loss of my mother, with loss of myself… and then rebirth, I’d felt the rebirth. And here I was ready to try for a new being inside me, once again.
Wherever you are in your health, self-love journey, and food journey, we always have the opportunity to Begin Again, to reinvent, to rebirth.
