Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
I can think of nothing more appropriate to say today of all days- especially in our current political state. The argument to build walls brings about both national and deeply personal issues. We don’t need more walls. We need a bigger table. There is always room if we make it.
As we make our move from first to forever, we are still riddled with the same anxieties, the same what-ifs, the same there’s never enough conundrum. Space, time, money… but we have food and shelter. We have family and friends, and, most importantly, we have our village. Our tribe.
This past weekend I was blessed with a couple of hours of fruit picking with my mother-in-law and the girls, and then 4 hours of time to work thanks to an amazing mother’s helper lent to me by her amazing mother. Watching this young woman was a breath of fresh air… and hearing her get Millie to laugh made my heart soar. Getting those precious hours gave me back time during the week, too. Time to spend with the girls, not trying to find time to work. The meat of my week is spent nose in laptop writing, editing and telling our story… a story that unfolds better when I am not chasing a soon-to-be one year old up the stairs! And time better spent making that story happen.
Sometimes I forget that we have more than we need. I need to remember that our table yearns for more chairs to squeeze in those amazing friends, the few moments we get to spend together- less walls and reasons why we can’t. And most important, I must remember to gather more people at that table to call my tribe. It’s not the quantity of interaction, or time, or money- it’s the quality.
Make a bigger table.
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