In Search of Health and Beauty

Why am I choosing this?

I write to you from the aftermath of a very wild storm. Our position at the top of the hill means we get it from all angles. It came on suddenly and violently and calmed down just as fast, leaving everything looking greener and crowned with the inspirational arc of a rainbow.

I have been present to many moments of unexpected beauty this last week. An imperfect and unassuming tomato transformed itself into beautiful and symmetrical blooms when I cut it into slices and placed them on a plate.

I experienced my cutlery drawer as beautiful, in the most chaotic state it's ever been, because it was the result of my three-year-old taking it upon herself to unpack the dishwasher.

My landlady brought me a bucket of organic apples from the tree out front. I found a worm in one of them. I don't remember the last time this happened to me. The creature took on new beauty as a living testament to the fact that this food was free from poison. I felt grateful.

This is what I’ve been searching for. Aliveness.

This is what felt impossible to me in London. It's what felt impossible to me in Rome. It feels possible here.

I remember my first visit to the region I now live in. I remember my heart lifting, rising with the altitude, as we drove up the hill. The winter sun was slowly rising in the sky and we drove straight towards the light. I marvelled at the winding river and the rolling hills and I realised, that for a long time, I had been praying for health and beauty for myself and for my family. It was a longing that had been there long before the words, and now I had a way to express it.

Health.

Beauty.

One leads to the other and the other leads back to The One.

A small fear was present too; that I might not be able to remain open enough to receive them. That I might allow myself to turn, or be pulled away, from this generous response to my asking.

This is what gave me purpose, patience, and even joy among the very real challenges of being on the road with two small children for eight months. It was the memory of that sunrise and a very clear vision of where I wanted to go.

I must admit, there were times when the purpose, patience and joy escaped me. Like one morning back in April. Bleeding and super-sensitive, I was packing my things for the umpteenth time in an apartment that was not a home and feeling overwhelmed. I needed a friend; a woman, someone to witness me and understand what a giant undertaking this was. Someone who knew what it was to hold a thought for what might be needed in the coming weeks and what could be stored. Which bags would be best for the things I was taking and which for the things I was leaving. What each child might need for the journey and what each child needed now. How long I had before one would wake, or need to sleep, or before my energy just ran out.

“I just need to speak to a friend. I need to speak to Zainab” I told my husband, but it was early in the morning and I didn’t know if she’d be awake and wasn’t it really a distraction and a waste of time when I had work to do?

“Talk to me,” he said, “I can listen” and I wanted so badly for it to be true. My neck was tense and even physically my shoulders felt overburdened.

“Just try,” he insisted. So I did.

But my words were emotional and unclear and my overwhelm was infectious and he got exasperated and

“You’ve been fine until now, this is how we’ve been living for months. Nothing has changed. Why are you choosing to behave like this today?” he asked.

Rage surfaced in my body and my head spun with valid retorts.

I haven’t been fine.

Exactly, it’s been months.

Have you heard of the straw that broke the camel’s back?

And again,

“Why are you choosing this?” he asked.

I stared at him, silent and furious. He was being completely insensitive and yet, his choice of words crept around the sides of my anger and settled into my being. There was something there that was true.

I did have choice.

I had chosen him. I had chosen Italy. I had willingly said yes to both. I chose to leave Rome. I chose to settle for nothing less than the possibility of health, and beauty. I had made all sorts of choices that had led me here.

I knew why I was choosing this. The purpose returned.

In an instant, the tension and physical pain left my neck and shoulders. It completely disappeared. I felt lighter and remotivated. I left the children with him and I went back to the bedroom to pack up our life again like the grown adult woman that I am. The patience returned.

Within an hour or so it was done (not perfect, but done) and we cleaned up the place and agreed that when I needed to talk to a woman I should probably talk to a woman. The joy returned.

Storms come. So do rainbows. It’s healthy and beautiful.

I choose imperfect, blemished tomatoes and messy cutlery drawers and worms in apples. I choose aliveness and health and beauty and I’m willing to face my fears and stand my ground to have it.

I ask that You continue to guide me towards it and open me to receive it and I wish the same for all the deepest longings in the hearts of all who read this.