I spent my birthday weekend on a spiritual retreat. Upon my return, our youngest met me at the door with outstretched arms. “You are!” she said joyously.
“I am what ?” I replied.
“She looked at me quizzically and repeated, “You ARE!”
“I am what? I am home? I am ready for cake? I am your mom?
She looked at me with her head cocked to one side, smiling and said once more,”You are.”
I hugged her, the days of cleansing and meditation flooded back in that moment. My three year old already knew the answer to my quest. My life isn’t about where I am, what I want, or how I identify. It is simply by being that I am most alive.