Aspen is a strange and wonderful little beastie. Trapped somewhere between the spirit world and ours, ocean eyes searching the walls, the sky, the skin on my face. Knowing nothing and everything, all at once. She is the most marvelous sort of empty. Like the desert, like the cosmos, spacious and new and old and allowing all the world to pour into her. I feel the presence of many ancient and wise beings with her in these early days, maybe guardians sent to watch over her transition from one side, to the other.
I thought that I would know her completely when she was placed on my chest at birth. Like we would be old friends. Instead, she’s a wild and unfamiliar creature, all animal noises and smacking, thirsty lips. She teaches me what soothes her (steady bouncing, constant movement, cradling her fuzzy head in my palms) and I teach her how to smile, how to coo, how to sleep soundly in the crook of my arm. We’re slowly learning how to handle one another. And it’s a beautiful relationship, really. More than just a mother towering over her child, always right, always older. Rather, we are equal. Both children: new, learning. I hope it’s always like this, even when she’s as old as I am now. Her learning from me, and I from her, a friendship, sharing, growing together in love, and in life, and in Spirit.
These early weeks will be lost before long, I can tell. They’re already such a blur of messy diapers and midnight milk soaked towels and bedsheets. But I don’t want to forget. Not the way the apartment smells (kind of sour, kind of sweet, all covered up with lavender and incense), or the way chores that used to only take a moment (putting a fresh bag in the trash) now take minutes on end and one hand, not two. Not the way she throws her little, dinosaur arms into the air and frowns every time a noise or a touch startles her. Not the way her papa looks at her in wonder, strokes her cheek with his thumb, calls her his squid, his little bird, his love. Not the way she fall asleep like a frog on my chest. Not the way she is right here, right now, all soft and new and perfectly empty.