Etymology of Hoizon is listed as: bound, limit, divide, separate and limit of view.
I am trying to stay positive in the face of uncertainty,
stay clear headed and patient in the face of parenting responsibilities.
Creative in the face of harsh realities
And then there’s Meena.
There is no question that child was wrought out of pure love.
I am so grateful for him. For his presence.
For his warm squishy body next to mine at night
for his big goofy giggles,
for his squels at Ali or cuddles with Chris.
Life is not this or that, not black or white.
It’s energy, light, flow
and always, always movement.
I will long for a snapshot of this feeling, this love long after it might pass
Long after I get grey and achy
Long after he outgrows my lap and his chubby cheeks.
The bittersweet passage of time.
How hard I tug and pull to get to the next horizon only to look back and remember what I forgot.
How is it some of us can hold so much love, so much light, while others simply can not?
Water on Mars. Plastic in oceans.
Families huddled along borders, waiting.
Pushing and pulling against tides, against horizons
Can we evolve to something different? Something we have never experienced before?
How much can our container hold?