Welcome, Grey!

On April 26th the world got a little brighter and better.

Grey Frederick Russell Lesley was born and I had the extreme privilege of meeting this sweet miracle within hours of his birth. There are no words to describe what an absolute privilege this was. To hold a newborn is truly one of life's purest miracles. To cradle this tiny person is to tangibly experience love and it was a sacred experience for me. Thank you, Hannah and Nick, for allowing me to be a part of this day.

Before I met Grey, I wrote Hannah a poem using what's called the "Golden Shovel" form. I discovered this type of poetry with my students. In this poetic form, the poet takes a "striking line" from an inspirational poem and uses words from that inspirational line or stanza in a new poem. The striking line then appears, word for word, at the end of the lines in the new poem. 

I used a stanza from a Mary Oliver poem as my striking line {I included it at the end of this post} and I intended to have my part of the poem sound like Hannah's voice--as if it were her musing on this sweet miracle entering her new life as a family of 4. I post the poem here as a reminder to myself to Listen and to See what is around me. To embrace the messy parts and learn from the noise in my life. I want to slow down and be Mindful of the beautiful miracles surrounding me--which isn't difficult with Prince Grey on the scene. 

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{To Listen and to See} by Kari Laniel
is to be {Mindful} by Mary Oliver

Your fingers and toes and every
tiny eyelash greet the day
and give me pause. I
cherish the coo and the sleepy snooze. I see
the morning light in all its stages--or
maybe it's in all its possibilities. I hear
the noise that gives me headaches but it also gives me something
I can't name. It's that
part of the process that gives me more
insight into what it's all about. Or

maybe what it's not. I know it's not less.

The mess kills
me.
I can't help it. With
all the ways I am wired {my enneagram knows the delight}
I have learned to embrace that
the mess is part of it. It never leaves
and it's not just a mess of toys. It's a mess of me
and I know it's okay. Like

I know that the color of mustard brings me joy or a
new planner with fresh pages just needs my needle
like handwriting and my underlined dates. In
my world, it makes sense. The
organized mess like a haystack
of cleaning supplies just makes sense...{Sort of.}
I also know and I also embrace the many, many places of light
that show me hope. It
reveals itself in ways that always surprise me. Was I not seeing it before? What
blinded me from it? I
am figuing out how to integrate what was
with what is; my past and my present, and then you were born.
You changed it all for
the better. The millions of magical ways to
capture hope are found in one look
of you. To
savor the quiet spaces and listen
to the mystery is to
recognize the depth of possibilities open to us. We might lose
the light if we are caught up in the not listening. I know myself
and I know I have to be disiplined in the listening because inside
of the noise is the hope. This
has proven itself before. That soft
murmur that reveals love. The world
is too big and too small to
miss. I must instruct
myself
to listen and see what is to be seen over
the noise and the chaos and
the places that scare me. Over
the self-doubt and fear because in
the midst of the mess there is joy.
There are light and magic and hope in the mundane tasks and
I welcome it with acclamation.

{A stanza from} Mindful

by Mary Oliver

Every day

I see or hear

something

that more or less

kills me

with delight, 

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

It was what I was born for--

to look, to listen, 

to lose myself

inside this soft world--

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation.

By the way, Grey is Nora's little brother and Georgia's cousin.
 I wrote about these miracles in this post. :)