November 14, 2015
“Mom, I’m having a hard time”.
My son was 4, buck naked, lying on the floor having a temper tantrum because he didn’t want to take a bath. I had whined and demanded and yelled and looked at him with a cold face and hard eyes.
It wasn’t until I asked my face and my eyes to melt into warmth, and let my body relax and my heart soften, that he looked up at me, saw something new in my eyes, and was able to put his arms out to me and trustingly ask for my help.
25 years later I can still feel how it felt in my body to move from hard to soft. From closed to open. From defended to vulnerable and overwhelmed with love.
In a way we were both buck naked.