The other night Oscar and I walked to the park after supper. It was unseasonably 72 degrees at 5:30pm. At the park there were two moms sitting on the bench and 4 kids playing and running in a pack. Oscar ran right up to them and asked to join them. They broke off into teams and made all kinds of strategic plans behind bushes and shrubs. I stood next to a small tree, Oscar's bike under my feet, the sun on my face, the warm breeze on my skin. I was within ear shot of the two women and I caught myself listening to them pretty intently. They discussed their homes and one was about to move into a new home, with a three car garage and lots of closet space. I shifted my weight, listened to the kids play and smiled at Oscar's extroverted ways which are so foreign to me. It occurred to me that these women are my age; two kids, a husband, big homes with lots of closets and room for more than one car and I had one of those "how did I get here?" moments.

I've always been one to have a vision. I knew what I wanted when I was young and I set out to get it. I wanted to live a life full of art and travels and I wanted a life partner. I was 19 when I met my ex-husband and for a good 12 years we did live a life full of art and travel. The only thing missing in our relationship was love. But like all dysfunctional relationships, you keep going through the motions. You don't talk about what is wrong. You hold in your anger. You don't fight. You just keep going. And like a leaky faucet eating away the enamel; drip. drip. drip. Corrosion. You don't even realize it is happening until the damage is already done. Until 13 years later, the earth stops spinning for a few seconds while your husband is saying "I never really loved you" when you are holding your two week old child and you are sick from mastitis. Then you scramble like hell to fix it because you've spent your entire life building it. It's all you've ever known. But it's over. The lies and anger have all come unraveled and the life you were living is over.

I stood in the park, oversimplifying the women on the bench. What-ifs rush at me and I just wish I could start over. Hit reset. All those choices. I want to go back. Go back to the day 15 years ago when Miriam Patchen and I ate Sara Lee cheesecake in her kitchen and she asked me to move in with her, but I told her I couldn't because I was moving in with my boyfriend.

I yelled for Oscar that it was time to go. He surprisingly said Okay and ran up to me and got on his bike. We headed home to begin our nighttime routine of bath and story time. The sun made everything glow. We listened to the birds and motorcycles and chirping squirrels.

Now. Supermoon Solar Eclipse Equinox. Oscar and I spent the day celebrating this amazing line-up by working in the garden, cleaning up and prepping it for new growth. A few days ago, Pixie Lighthorse posted the following questions on her Instagram page. "Who are you becoming as a result of what you're willing to release? How can you illuminate your divine path on this earth?"

This is exactly where I am. Letting go of things that no longer serve me, so that I may grab onto things that give me strength. I am a mother and an artist. How can I be better at both? Patience with myself and patience with my son. Lots of deep breaths and confidence that things will get better.

The other day at the breakfast table, Oscar asked me "Mom, are we dreaming?" I just smiled and said  "I think it's quite possible, because sometimes, things are not what they seem.."