Mar22
On the eve of the birth of my granddaughter
It’s almost 4:00 in the morning. Just moments ago, my oldest daughter left for the hospital with her husband. She is in labor.
Earlier I was rubbing her back, her shoulders, breathing with her as the contractions came and went, closing my eyes and feeling generations of women before me and the power of this connection that will continue to reach out after me.
I sit here now and savor those moments and think about how much we have become disconnected to this great flow of life with the very technology that is supposed to increase the odds of that life. And how ironic that our technological advances can connect a world and yet disconnect us from our roots and the wisdom of our ancestors.
But in those moments, before the wires and gadgets and sterile rooms, it was as if time stopped, and within that stillness, I felt a sense of primal connection. It was rich and deep and if it had a smell, it would be of dark, fertile soil.
And I wonder, if somehow we have not created a cage of safety for ourselves like birds that have all the food they want to eat and no worries about predators, but no room to fly and no sky to reach.
But now, in these early predawn hours, my thoughts turn to my daughter and the baby who will soon be here. I see an endless horizon of possibilities and wonder. And I see a bond that spans through the generations. I know that the connection is still there and always will be.
We need only accept its eternal invitation to be aware.
