I found myself wondering if one of the hardest things about not having kids was not having kids. It became clear that this was an evident contradiction.
I also know the only reason I feel this way is because I actually don't have kids.
In her book Mating in Captivity the therapist Esther Perel writes that there are some issues that aren't meant to be solved, they're only meant to be acknowledged.
- Major highlighter moment- although I don't actually highlight I draw little stars and planets to mark an important book location, quotes I like. Sometimes I even draw little hearts <3
She uses this phrase in the context of marriage but I believe the contained wisdom can serve more than one aspect of life.
Such is a paradox. Not to be solved but to be acknowledged.
There are paradoxes in almost every aspect of life.
Like that feeling at the end of a book. It can be the happiest and also the saddest moment of reading a book.
Surrendering to the fact that strength comes from vulnerability.
Being aware that in the search for safety one might become constricted.
Wanting peace and finding solitude.
Loving and dreading writing. (<-This one is mine)
My life is full of paradoxes and I know. I wear them like an invisibility cloak. They act like a shield to my personal space.
They are a juxtaposition of experiences that make me who I am.
Which is that I am Ruth but also Maya and sometimes Geraldina.
I am somewhere between a runner and a dancer. Between a dancer an a yogi.
A wife and a lover. A lover and a friend.
I move to find stillness.
I can feel at home when away from home.
I am unapologetically complex. This does not translate to complicated. It translates to beautifully human.
My life is full of paradoxes and I want to tame them as words that I can use to describe all the magic contained in real life. Like how one of the perks of being alive is making mistakes. That magnificent experience of crying hard and laughing loud.
I want to write the story of how I'm not here to fix myself but the journey of how I am here to be simply perfectly imperfect.