I Do Solemnly Swear…

It is 6:44 am on the morning of the 2017 Inauguration of the 45th President of the United States of America. I just finished my morning meditation. As my son’s eyes get set to open soon behind his ebony lashes and I prepare to kiss his lush, sponge-like cheeks, I cant help but think about the day and weekend ahead.

How will I protect this little man for the rest of his sweet life? How will I guide him to make decisions for himself that are healthy and wise? What will it take to steer him to help mankind with all that he embarks on in his journey? To come from a loving and compassionate place of understanding for other people’s differences while fully embracing the reality that we are all one — how can I ensure this for him?

I used to fly to every new conference, summit, festival, and gathering. It was so easy to just get a ticket and go. Have a child and you’ll see how quickly that changes, but today, in just a few hours, I am taking it to the road and driving into the belly of the beast — Washington, DC. It’s so unlike me to set out on such a hectic day, but I am committed to my role working behind-the-scenes of the Women’s March on Washington. Many of my close friends and colleagues are spearheading this global initiative and I am happy and humbled to be part of this bigger journey for woman and mankind. I want to be part of history and rise with my fellow women, each of whom I have so much love and respect for. I am determined to be there.

I keep thinking about how I started 2017 with the best intentions to improve my health, to be a better mom, and to take risks where I felt challenged to before. Each year I choose a word to focus on for the next 12 months — this year’s word is identity.

Who am I? What do I have to offer the world? How can I do it to my maximum ability, reaching my fullest potential, utilizing all the skills I have? These are all questions that I am still answering within myself.

Just ten days ago I was on the operating table having an emergency gall bladder removal, which stemmed from the most unbearable six-hour stomachache I’ve ever experienced. Life as I knew it changed forever when the surgeon told me, several times, that my gall stones and extremely high liver count were life-threatening. When she told me this I found myself having an out-of-body experience. I could only think of my little boy’s big, beautiful smile and how is hair curls at the top of every strand. I thought of my fear of surgery, but mostly, I thought of my bigger fear that he would live his life without me physically by his side.

There was no question as to what I had to do.

As I was being wheeled into the operating room, I sent last minute emails and texts to sponsors and fellow strategic advisors. The countdown to my surgery and the Women’s March on Washington had begun. I’m producing and coordinating events on behalf of the co-chairs and National Committee and I wanted to be sure the details were set. I just didn’t stop. This was too important for me to stop.

When I got onto the big metal slab of a table I could only watch videos of my son singing or laughing to warm my heart before I was put under. I handed my phone to my sister while my surgeon queued up my favorite Dave Matthews song. Off I drifted into the land of anesthesia.

Within an hour post-surgery I was right back on the phone, emailing my colleagues and texting the team as if nothing happened. Why? The only place I wanted to be in that moment was cuddled up next to my son, embraced in his warmth, but first I had to heal. My health finally came first. So I created my own warmth from that cold hospital bed and kept stoking the flames of feminine power. It was the next best thing!

So today I go — to our nation’s capital, to the Women’s March on Washington, to keep that fire burning bright. My surgeon said I am not allowed to drive so a friend will take the wheel of my car and we’ll go — to end violence against women and girls, to ensure reproductive freedom, to stand for LGBTQIA rights, for workers’ rights, for disability rights, for civil rights, for immigrant rights, for environmental justice, and most importantly, for the respect of thy neighbor.

I keep circling back to my identity and who I am as a mother. I am already thinking about Sunday morning when I get to walk back into my New York City home and hold my precious son in my arms, telling him about the Women’s March on Washington that his mommy was so proud to be a part of. That’s the only identity I care to know.

“I do solemnly swear that I will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” How about you?