Landslide into 2019

I find myself stumbling rather ungracefully into the new year. I stepped back into my routines of daily life here in Toronto with a sudden thud. I feel out of sorts, and I just can’t seem to get a grip on anything. They say there are years that question and years that answer. 2018 was an answer. 2019 is a year of question, I can already feel it. Things feel unsettled and haphazard. I completed a mandalam of 40 days of shambavi maha mudra in the early new year. I had expected that it would bring me to a more centered and grounded space, and yet to be quite honest with you, everything feels blurry and confused. I have to believe that the practice gives me what I need most for my spiritual growth. The last time I had completed this mandalam, I discovered I was pregnant and then went on to lose my baby, which ended up being a significant and poignant, but no less beautiful occurrence in my life. Perhaps what I need most for my growth right now is a more potent dose of life, rather than something slow and grounded and centered. 

A day after returning back from our 6 week stay in India, I got a stomach bug and ended up with my head in the toilet for about 3 days. I couldn’t eat or drink and I was too weak to hold Reya, who only wanted being held – I can’t blame her, I always hold her. It’s my favourite thing to do. She would just cry at my feet while I threw up. Every time I had to breastfeed her, I would feel my last ounce of energy being drawn out of me, and I would get lightheaded and nauseous. Thank god for husbands who cuddle you, and hold your hair back, and single-dad it for a while so that you can sleep.

But eventually I recovered. And then Reya became sick. When it rains it sure does pour! Having a sick baby gives me a sick heart. She drapes her hot little body on mine and I ache for her. It is almost as though we merge into one being. She remained in my arms, or on my chest for another 3 days. I watch the rise and fall of her chest, so blessed to witness her breath, and feel warm tears slip from my eyes when I think of what this little human being means to me. Having a baby that breathes – it is no ordinary thing, it is not something all parents have – and I know that well. Once you have been touched by death, I don’t think it ever really leaves you, and I do think of it. I think of losing her and it wraps my stomach up in knots with a rope of despair.

After 2 days, her fever settled, just as a new tooth emerges from her swollen pink gums. Crying, cuddling, restless sleep, a rash, refusing to eat – these are the things I have been diligently tending to the last few days.

I was listening to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac today. A song that I have listened to for as long as I have been listening to music. A love song. A song that wen well accompanied with ponderings about relationships passed. This time however, I heard the words with a new energy infused through it. A profound, deep, spiritual sentiment. A questioning. A wondering. Time passing. A coming undone in the most delicately magical way. Describing poetry is often a futile act, when what I want to convey becomes words, it just loses all meaning. So I will leave it at that.

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
‘Til the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too

Take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down

This post has turned out to be quite a random assortment of topics, but I just miss writing. I miss having time to introspect and share, even if it is with only myself. Since becoming a mother, I have had very little time for it, and truthfully, I think this is taking its toll on me. I know that in the past, this blog has always read as somewhat of a “how to manual” for spiritual topics, and it makes me cringe now – why I would ever think I had the authority to instruct anyone on these matters is beyond me. The more I learn, the more I experience, the more I understand – the more I realize that there is so much I don’t know, so much that confuses me and leaves me a little lost. I’m just an explorer. So – I’m done with that. No more How-To guides (oops – except maybe 2-3 more that I have 95% finished and are sitting in my drafts – which I would be too sad to let go to waste, so bare with me). I think there are far more respectable resources out there if information and knowledge is what you want. What I want to write about is what I want to read about – which is real experiences of this layer of life. And I definitely don’t want to write about things that I have no direct experience of.

So I hope that you are down with this new approach to sharing on this blog. It feels more authentic to me.

And with that, Reya has just awoken from an unusually long nap. Time for snuggles! Thank you for reading 🙂

4 Comments

  1. I love your post Malavika. It has been a rather complex and often difficult walk into 2019. We will be in touch. Thankful that you and Reya are well again. She is so beautiful. Again I acknowledge the wonderful writer that you are.
    Love, Arlene

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    1. Dear Arlene ❤ So good to hear from you. Thank you for your enduring support in my blog and also in ME. What a gift that has been for me. And as I have told you many times before, but I know I can never say too much – you truly are one of the most profound and impactful mentors I have had the privilege of knowing. I am back in Kamloops, studying for my next exam – and will be in touch with you soon, so that we could meet for tea and conversation and hugs!

      I love you
      Malavika xo

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  2. I just love seeing you with your daughter, and can feel the love as one heart. Oh my, it is difficult to raise a child, especially when you’re sick. I had a stomach bug years ago when my son was young, and I told him not to worry that I would be passed out on the floor in front of the toilet lol! We get through it, and we help our babies get through it, too. The rewards are endless, even when we don’t see them at first.

    Julie

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    1. Hi Julie! It is always so lovely to hear from you. Ahhh motherhood has been as challenging as it has been wonderful. I was not prepared for that at all, and I’m still trying to find my feet with all of this. Thank you for your words of encouragement. I suppose we do somehow find our way through it in the end! One step at a time…xo

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