Day One: Songs of Freedom

Day One: Songs of Freedom

“Won’t you help to sing this song of freedom- cause all I ever have: redemption song.” On the first week of a five week holiday in Barbados, with my daughter and her extended family that lives here, could make me the envy of many. Yet I came with a heavy heart and a purpose. My purpose is to make enough room within me to begin to breathe again. I began my days here by devouring the 29 Gifts in 29 days book that I had packed along with my baggage, both the physical and the spiritual. A perfectionist by nature, I was certain I would not start without a plan; a plan for how to give, when to give, who to give to. Yet I woke up this morning and began without a plan to move forward in good faith. So my first day of giving began. I left myself open to the possibility that an opportunity would present it’s self.

The ironic thing is that I attempted several times to consciously give with an open heart but I stumbled on something more. After attempting to by my ex-husbands sister Shawndette an ice coffee downtown, because she is always giving to others, she treated me. Then outside a local shop I did what I have never done and gave money to a woman who in her words was seeking a donation, while giving in good faith it did not strike the cord I thought it would. So I went on seeking. After arriving home after a long, hot day downtown I brought food and Christmas gifts for my daughter which I promptly hid.

My daughter has been sick with a fever for several weeks and had a slight rash this morning so I gave her a cool oatmeal bath when I returned home, then while taking my shower I tried my giving again. I scrubbed the stand-up shower top to bottom, a silent contribution to the household that has given me hospitality and shelter. I felt a deep satisfaction when the task was complete.

Yet the gift of the day turned out to be one I could have never planned out. This evening I walked with an old friend, looking at Christmas lights on palm trees much to my daughters’ satisfaction. While walking I told the story I haven’t told from beginning to end of the pain I have endure for the last several years since I had divorce my daughters’ father. I drained myself of ever thing I have ever left unsaid. When I was done I turned to my friend with the realization that my gifts today had open my eyes but the gift I had been given had opened my heart.

So I sit this evening with a grateful heart, and hear Bob Marley echo in my head, “Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery; None but ourselves can free our mind.” And I begin to make space to breathe again.