Jessica Gazzola

My third baby is now crawling.  As a mother of two who have already crossed the threshold into this perilous stage I did not wish for or encourage it, but through it Amos sailed… and then immediately and repeatedly face planted on the other side.  Even though mobility means more tears and bruises for him and parental anxiety for me, now that we’re here I find myself cheering him on.  Even when Amos is heading under the bed with the frame just above eye level for the third time, the moments before he hits are sheer glee!   He wakes in the middle of the night and gets up on all fours, so eager for a new day to push his limits and discover new ones. That purest of elation, moving into a wide world without fear of danger or inadequacy; I want that for him.  I want that for me.

The glory of God is the human person fully alive. St. Irenaeus of Lyons

My children have been my greatest teachers.  They remind me that I too was once bold and brazen.  There was a time when I didn’t fear failure, I didn’t dread disappointment, and I knew the world to be full of possibility because I only knew how to be fully alive.  There is so much forgetting in growing up.

At this stage in my life I’ve acquired many fears, some my own, some put upon me by a fearful world.  But I’m finding that in doing small things that force me to look squarely at what it is I fear, its grip softens and transforms into possibility.

I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I’ve never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do.  Georgia O’Keeffe

Almost two years ago, I was at an outdoor yoga event. After our practice Kim Winn, our instructor and guide, invited us to write a vision for our life in five years’ time.  Grounded and feeling safe I was surprised at the words on my little slip of paper.  “Reflect and write and travel.”  I was in the middle of a divorce, busy with two kids, pastoring a church, barely supporting myself, and just beginning to make yoga and self-care a priority in my life.  This dream seemed less than unlikely, it seemed laughable.  A lot has changed since then, which you’ll read more about in coming posts.  But the biggest change has been the friends I’ve made with many of the fears that once controlled me.

Today I write, offering at my altar my fears of failure, ridicule, pain, and disappointment.   They look sort of petty and meek on that big wide Table, but that too is deceiving.  These things that once made me weak now have the power to make me strong.  They become the nourishment that infuses me with the courage to face fear again tomorrow.

I woke up in the middle of the night, eyes bright with ideas and words.  My husband rolled over and opened one eye.  “I can’t sleep.  I have too many ideas,” I whispered.  “You and Amos have the same thing going on.”  Dear God, I hope so!