Before I became a mom, I equated a sacred life with a life full of serenity. With moments of calm and presence each day and slow, conscious actions.
I had the expectation that having a baby would be such a profoundly sacred experience. That the birth would be my rebirth and that those early days with my newborn would be a safe cocoon, recovering and taking shelter from the world around us.
I found myself disappointed when the reality was: high anxiety, stress and emotional overwhelm but what I didn't realize was that these were sacred experiences too.
What I didn't realize was that: those all-nighters; feeding, rocking and singing to my baby while I was depleted on so many different levels was the deepest version of a sacred life that I could ever encounter. That those moments of absolute love juxtaposed with exhaustion and frustration were the definition of sacrality. Those moments were as real and holy as they get and even though I sometimes wanted to scream 'Holy F**k!', when they were over and peace entered I could feel how damn special they were; how lucky I was to have this little being choose me.
The truth is that those Holy F moments don't last forever even though they feel like they might. They are there to teach us and guide us on our journey in this life.
Sacred moments come in different shapes and forms but one thing is for sure, a sacred life is one that we create for ourselves, in and among the hardships of being human because being human is fucking hard.