Bring Love.

"I did then what I knew how to do.  Now that I know better, I do better."

                                                                                                - Maya Angelou

Bring love.  Bring only love.  Watch miracles unfold. 

In the presence of love, hatred cannot exist, just as darkness cannot exist in the presence of light.  Illuminate a dark room and the light takes over, as if the darkness never even existed.  

On the other hand, hatred in the presence of hatred grows exponentially.  The same is true for anger, judgement, resentment, criticism, jealousy and anything else that is not love.  

Responding to hatred with hatred only creates more hatred.  Responding to being hurt by inflicting pain only creates even more hurt, more pain.  Responding to being judged by criticizing results in much, much more of the same.  We must ask ourselves...is this really what we want?

By bringing love, compassion and understanding into every single situation, no matter how difficult, we can change the world.  

We've all heard the phrase "Love conquers all" a thousand times, to the point that we've become desensitized to what it really means.  In the past, when hearing those words or anything else conveying a similar message, I would think to myself, "Really nice sentiment and I wish it were that simple - but life is much more complicated" - or something along those lines.

But recently it has become glaringly obvious to me that the concept of love being the answer to absolutely everything is not only accurate, it's crucial for all of us to not only acknowledge and recognize this as truth, but to practice it in our own lives as much as we possibly can.

I believe that at the very core of every kind gesture, act of compassion and understanding, generous offering and even friendly smile toward a fellow human being  is love defined.  I also believe that love is synonymous with the miraculous, therefore in order for miracles to occur, love must be present.

For as long as I can remember, long before I had children of my own, I identified myself as a mother.  When I was a little girl, perhaps influenced by The Brady Bunch, I decided I would have six children.  I believe I even shared this with my future husband on our very first date.  Surprisingly enough, he didn't run for the nearest exit!

Soon after the arrival of our twin girls, I realized that perhaps three children was enough - but I knew that being a mother was what I was meant to do.  I loved every minute of it (well, maybe not every minute!)...motherhood simultaneously lived up to, exceeded and transcended every expectation I had ever had about it.  It was more wonderful, more difficult, more challenging, more heart-wrenching and more life-changing than I could have ever imagined in my wildest dreams.  To me, similar to experiencing the death of a close loved one, there are no words that could ever do justice to what it feels like to be a mother.

From the moment our son Jake was born on August 14, 2002, I have woken up each morning with one goal: to be the best mother I could possibly be.  That hasn't changed - but there is something that has changed drastically - the way in which I go about achieving that goal.

Life is about growth and with that growth comes expansion in every form: emotional, mental, physical and spiritual.  In my case, expansion brought with it many gifts, the most important of which, for me, is the wisdom and awareness to see with clarity, without any doubt, what is important in this life, not only as a mother, but as a human being.  For that, I am so very grateful.

As a mom, being chronically ill is a particularly devastating and stressful form of torture.  This is one of the reasons I find it so mind-blowing that anyone could ever entertain the idea that we have chosen this path, that we have chosen to watch our children suffer from the collateral damage of our illness.  The negative attention alone would be the only deterrent needed to make that theory impossible.

I was lucky enough to have a truly amazing role model when it comes to being a mother...my own.  My mom gave me many gifts but I think the most significant is this: when she looked at me, what I saw reflected in her eyes was always beauty and love, no matter what the situation.  Not just physically, but beautiful in every way.  I knew that no matter what I did, that would never change.  I felt loved, acknowledged, valued and most importantly, seen, in such an unconditional way that I experienced that feeling in every cell of my body - and I still do.  My mother has been gone physically from this earth for over twelve years and I still feel her unconditional love on such a deep, cellular level that my entire body tingles just thinking about it.  What greater, more valuable gift can we ever hope to give our children?  A gift that never dies, a gift that will stay with our children long after we are gone.  That is love in it's very purest form.

Even on the days that I couldn't get out of bed, I could still give this gift of love to my children.  I may not have been able to do all the things for them that I usually did, the things that I once believed to be the very definition of being a "good" mom, but no matter how sick I was, I could look each one of them in the eye, give them my full attention, see their beautiful essence and reflect that back to them to carry with them throughout their day.  I could still give them the gift of being loved so unconditionally that they knew with every fiber of their being that there was no bad grade, no disappointment or failed expectation, no mistake or failure, big or small, that could ever change that.  The thing that I realized recently is that I can do that better now than I could before my illness.

I remember days that I truly thought I was dying.  In those dark moments, the thought of death almost seemed like it would be a welcome relief from the pain I was in.  If not for my three kids, I may have just given up - but I knew I had to keep fighting for their sake.  In some of my darkest moments, I allowed my mind to wander, wondering if, in the event that the worst should happen, would my children remember how much I loved them?  Would they know it deep in their souls, just as I know how much my mom loved me?

After everything that has happened, I will never have to worry about that again.  I know that they know. I know they know that they they are my very first thought when I wake up in the morning and my very last thought as I drift off to sleep at night.  I know they know that if I'm ever not able to attend one of their soccer games, school events, or anything else that is important to them that it is not by choice.  I know they know that if given the choice, I always, always choose them.  I know they know that I love them more than anything or anyone on the planet and that there is nothing in this life that I would not do for them.  And I know they know that I have no other expectation or wish for them except to be who they are, find their passion, and to be happy.  For me, this knowledge is priceless and fills me with a peace I've never known.

Over the course of the last few years, both prior to and throughout the onset of the acute phase of my illness, I went through some situations in my personal life resulting in very intense emotional trauma, some of the worst pain, heartbreak and feelings of betrayal I have ever experienced.  As a result, I became very angry and resentful and in my mind it was very justified.  And maybe it was. But I now know that responding to anything, no matter how hurtful it may be, with more negativity can only lead to more pain, which it did. The fact that the degree of physical illness and emotional trauma intersected and manifested in the way it did was not a coincidence, it was an inevitability.

 I can't help but wonder...perhaps if I knew then what I know now, things may have turned out differently.  But in the next moment I realize...I wouldn't change a thing.