If You're Looking At The Sky
by Azalia Suhaimi
Why is the world divided between the feelers and the ones hungry for power?
When one finds heaviness to walk a step forward
anticipating another atrocity waiting in front of their eyes,
another is walking too fast, blinded by lust and desire
for power, money, who-knows.
Today, after reading the news, I parked my car by a lone corner of the street, and wept. And realized what a privilege it is to be able find a quiet space to weep my heart out.
And while one thinks of practical ways to solve a problem,
I draft poems in my head, hoping it could save the world in some way.
That’s the thing about being
a feeler, a romantic, the too-sensitive.
I wish we could meet somewhere halfway
and agree that love and peace prevail.
I wish I did not have to be too-sensitive
so I’d stop being heartbroken while not actually helping.
And I wish the too-blinded-by-power
could open up their eyes
(and by eyes, I mean their heart).
I do not have the heart though
to post a photograph of anything under the sun at this point,
so here is a photo of the sun.
I hope that at least we are looking at the same sky,
that at least the sky looks the same
for those who are able to weep in the car
and those who aren’t,
those who do not deserve this pain.
And while we are looking at this same sky,
I hope you know that I am thinking of you
and praying for you.
I hope that in some way
my tears would become the rain that blanket you
in comfort and protection,
away from this pain you do not deserve.
©️ Poem by: Azalia Suhaimi.
In between happy dances and giggly muddy adventures outdoors, I have moments where I do not enjoy being a mother. These moments however, do not equate to me not loving my children nor me not being grateful for the beautiful gift of motherhood. I love them with all my heart, obviously.
This applies to many women too, I’m sure. These moments of not enjoying motherhood are simply part of being human, and part of the wondrous ebb and flow of life. Nothing is constant in this life.
And I guess this is where the advice to “ENJOY EVERY MOMENT” is flawed. While it’s true that we will not get these moments of motherhood back, we are not expected to ENJOY every moment. It’s okay and natural to not enjoy the weariness from the lack of sleep. It’s okay to not enjoy not having a second to sit in peace.
We hear the words “enjoy every moment” all the time that we then become afraid in being honest with our feelings. We feel guilty each time we get hints of not enjoying certain moments of motherhood. We don’t talk about them, in fear of being judged. We brush away these feelings, and then possibly unhealthily bottle them up.
We will not get these moments back, yes. But it’s okay to not enjoy EVERY moment. Instead of enjoying them, what we could do instead is to EMBRACE every moment. Embrace our favourite moments with joy. Embrace moments of frustrations by acknowledging and accepting those feelings, and embracing the lessons they teach.
I wouldn’t have learned the true meaning of self-care, for example, if I didn’t have moments of frustrations where I did not enjoy being a mother. And I am grateful for these lessons. I do not ENJOY every moment of motherhood, but I EMBRACE every moment with gratitude.
I have to admit, throughout my journey as a mother, there have been days and moments where I wish I’m doing something else, like having my nose in a favourite book instead of attending to the same multiple demands by my children. This does not come from ingratitude, but simply from being human and feeling the occasional pain of monotony.
This phase of motherhood can be so wondrous, gifting us with so many precious moments we want to tattoo in our hearts and minds, yet at the same time be so monotonous, we’d long for our carefree, younger days.
I have thought long and hard on ways to help spice up this parenting experience for days that scream boredom and for days when monotony is the louder voice. And I have discovered that the truly best guide to help us break the monotony really is our children themselves. Yes, the secret ingredient to help spice up our parenting experience is in our children.
I have guiltily realized that all it takes sometimes is the power to stop looking at my phone and to start looking THROUGH MY CHILDREN’S LENS instead.
Everything is new in our children’s eyes. Everyday is a new day to discover new things. Everything is a new different possibility. Everyone (and anyone) can be a possible friend to them. Every distant sound can be a possible jingle played by the ice-cream man. Every stray cat and every crawling insect can be given new names. Every object is a new word to be learned. Every puddle is a new dance floor to tap dance to.
And there is nothing monotonous about new muddy dance floors. Seeing through our children’s eyes truly can be an unexpected form of self-care in our parenting journey. The ingredient needed to spice up this parenting journey simply are OUR CHILDREN’S LENS.