Meditation With Small, Soft Hands

I held my kids’ hands yesterday evening as we sat around the table breathing into our ritual.  Before dinner each night, we pause and take a moment to settle.  The daily movement of coming in from school and work, walking the dog, putting away lunch kit paraphernalia, getting snacks, cleaning up after snacks, supervising play dates, making dinner, updating the calendar, and planning for the evening activities can easily sweep me out of the moment and into “perfect mom” zone.  That strange place where I forget the depth of my soul and convince myself I’m only a good mom if I make the best birthday cake ever for the upcoming celebration or a dinner that will knock everyone’s socks off.  In the moment of peaceful calm as we quietly join hands, I can come back to myself.  Meal on the table and food untouched, we close our eyes, and everything stops.

We breathe.

We bring ourselves back to the moment.

Last night as we sat together, I felt the beautiful soft skin on my little ones’ hands and I could have wept.  I instantly reconnected with their little souls – the magic with which they sprang from my womb, my unbelievably good fortune that I get to be with them on my journey.  I was entirely swallowed up by the beauty, the naivety, the trust in their little hands as they held mine.  The lump in my throat spread to my chest and only the deepest breaths grounded it and brought it back to gratitude that I carry with me wherever I go.




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