As Emerson dug through my abandoned purse, my old life jumped out and sprawled itself across the kitchen floor, telling a story I had temporarily forgotten. There were various beauty accessories for the woman who used to not only wear makeup daily, but would also freshen up throughout the day. There was the small pocket flashlight that I used to carry when I lived in an urban high rise so I could find my keys when I dropped them on the ground in the dark parking garage. There was a chunk of amethyst from the days when I was so consumed with my spiritual yoga and meditation practices that I carried various stones with me to benefit from their "energy." (Yes, really). There was the foot balm I used to rub on my achilles tendons to heal and prevent friction from my high heels. There was the morning sickness pops from when I was pregnant. And the soap leaves I used to bring with me when I went camping. And at last, my business card case filled with cards that read: Lola Rain Photography.
Emerson was most taken by the business cards. She tried and tried to open the case until finally it snapped in half. As I watched her manhandle my former life, I couldn't help but see the meaning in the moment. I was all hers now, and that life of mine felt so far away. At first, I felt a bit of sadness and longing as Emerson began to eat one of my business cards. But, the feeling was quickly replaced with a knowing confidence in the choices I've made. I felt the calling of a life to come, a new combination of the old and the current and some other things I've yet to realize.
It's as if Emerson was trying to tell me it was okay to unpack the past….that I wouldn't lose anything by cleaning out that purse. She began to carry my business cards with her everywhere she went, leaving a trail behind her. I'm still finding those cards all over the house. But, I smile while picking them up. Because, those cards remind me of what I accomplished before, what talent and determination live inside me, what is still very much a part of me, but is gracefully waiting for me to return to it when this job called motherhood allows the space.