Like a mermaid who has recently been given legs, my little seven-month old squirms upon the shore, squealing with delight. The scream from "Splash" comes to mind, as his joyous cries carry throughout the floors of our tiny house.
Interestingly, or maybe not, he did come from water and was forced out onto land. Perhaps "forced" is my projection, remembering the significant effort of labor.
At any rate, this entry would probably make a better poem. I am finding the limitations of prose at this moment. But, so what, who cares?
Every new transformation is a sea change, that term I love to use. My own body and spirit have been through a complete metamorphosis (thankfully, this did not include turning into a cockroach). Unlike Gregor, the cockroach, my change is not one that has brought isolation, quite the opposite. I feel I've been born into the community. I too have new legs that are learning how to walk on this new terrain. There's so much to see, so much new territory to cover. Who exactly have I become?
Perhaps one of the greatest personal gifts of motherhood is to feel a sense of communal identity. I belong more to myself and to the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment