After the birth of my second son, Charlie, I found myself in the thick of post partum again. It all came rushing back to me; the long sleepless days and nights, the monotonous tasks on an endless repeat, the exhaustion, the hormones, the hunger, and the loneliness. It was like black hole. All the rhythms of reality that I was used to were sucked away overnight, and I was left in some alternate universe, placed on a planet that required me to start from scratch all over again.

Only this time, the alternate universe was familiar.

I didn’t feel as helpless or afraid this time. It was challenging, and difficult, for sure, and there were days that I felt so incredibly and uncontrollably sad, but this time I didn’t feel like I had lost myself; I felt like I was rediscovering myself.

The paths that I had paved my first time through this journey were there. There were structures set in place, and there were openings amongst the forest and weeds to see the beautiful horizon in the distance. There was hope. I knew where some paths had taken me, and this time, I didn’t have to travel down them. Instead, I could pave a different way.

Overall, I felt so much more present and aware of both my external and internal world. I felt like I had time to reflect, and breathe, and take it all in.

By contrast, the first year of Thomas’s life I felt I was trapped within my “flight or fight” response, always on edge and anxious, and never really in tune with what I was feeling or experiencing. I was on constant survival mode. It was not a sustainable way to function.

Charlie’s arrival was different. It was challenging in a new way. Instead of a general sense of anxiety, I felt actual emotions. Joy, satisfaction, contentment, peace, sadness, grief, fear. This awareness of my complex inner world was rewarding, but also terrifying and incredibly uncomfortable. I embraced the “positive” emotions and experiences, but desperately wanted to escape the “negative” ones. There were moments, and sometimes even entire days, where I was constantly and painfully aware that I was feeling a deep sense of sadness. Everything in me was screaming to run. I did not want to feel sad. I just wanted to numb it away, to distract myself, to do whatever was necessary to escape the dark depths of this very real and valid emotion.

What does it mean when we categorize emotions as either positive or negative? All I know is that I internalized this to mean ‘good’ or ‘bad’. It felt like there was a moral distinction between happiness and sadness. One was acceptable, and the other was not. My instinct was to repress the sadness, and when I no longer could, I felt afraid. What does it say about me if I’m sad? Is there something wrong with me?

What if emotions weren’t moral categories and so called ‘negative emotions’ weren’t deficiencies? What if being sad and angry wasn’t bad, but just a part of being human?

All I know is that it is ingrained in me to embrace happiness and joy, and flee from sadness or anger; and yet, running away doesn’t actually escape the reality of these emotions in the first place. They still exist within me, and they should exist. When we lose something or someone we love, we should feel sad. When someone hurts us, we should feel pain. Emotions are natural responses to our environment. I don’t know if we can prevent them. I think we have to navigate and guide them.

The arrival of Charlie unlocked something within me that made me feel painfully more human. The more I allowed myself to pause and breathe, and navigate the complexity of my emotional world, the more I felt alive. I didn’t feel as though I was on autopilot or survival mode. I was no longer constantly reacting, anxious, and out of control. Instead of being helplessly pulled by some mysteries current beneath the surface, I felt as though I was actively navigating stormy waters from the safety of a lifeboat. And as I continued to embrace my humanity, that lifeboat began to transform into a much larger ship.

The storm wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t want it to be there. But instead of living in denial of its existence, I decided to accept it, and embrace the journey it would take to navigate it, with all the pain and the beauty.

The idea for this blog came from amidst the turmoil of those stormy waters. As I stepped away from learned patterns of mere survival, I began learning the distinction between reacting and responding. One is instinctual and automatic, the other is conscious and autonomous. Instead of existing within the chaos of our life, trapped within the limiting world of circumstances out of our control, embracing our most primitive instincts and reactions, we can become self-aware, and respond in ways that create new pathways, instead of perpetuating those that have been paved for us.

I began to realize that every day I have radical autonomy to create a new way of being.

One day in therapy, my therapist and I discussed how my nervous system functions. Our conversation was helping me make sense of a variety of my past experiences. I remember my therapist saying, “This is how all of our nervous systems’ work.” In other words, this was not a unique revelation specifically about me. It was a revelation about humanity in general.

We can’t escape our humanity; we can’t escape reality and yet, for so long I’d been running away from both.

Embracing the reality of what goes on in my body and mind, and choosing to stay and be present with myself, as myself, feels foreign. But there are moments that it feels like coming home. Accepting reality is painful. It seems stark and bleak or even boring at times. But I’ve also experienced beauty and meaning.

I’m tired of running. I’m tired of half-existing. I want to embrace my humanity. This begs the question–what is humanity? What does it mean to be human? And what does it mean to be the particular human being that I am? This is perhaps the heartbeat behind everything.

I also want to live a life that is meaningful. For so long I thought that meant doing something big and extreme somewhere in the future. Now I’ve realized a meaningful life must be embraced and chosen every day. Our hours make up our days, and our days make up our weeks and our weeks make up our month, and our months make up our years. In other words, to have a meaningful year, I need to find meaning in the present. This very hour I can embrace what lies before me, and I can choose how I want to interact and engage with my existence.

If we are here to exist as ourselves, we need to know what that means. What are the limits and boundaries carved out for us? Where must we relinquish control? And where do we actually have freedom to choose and create?

There are so many things out of our control. It would be a tragedy if we believe that who we are is out of our control as well.

This blog is the beginning of a journey of self discovery. It a reflection of my existence. It is an acceptance of my humanity. It is a realization that the more human I am, the more whole I become.

It is my way of embracing my life, and a step towards finding meaning today, this very moment. It is a pause, and a breath, from whatever else is putting pressure on my life, and a reminder that I get to respond.

This is my response to reality. This is my response to the chaos.

Creating.