Meditation on Time

I looked at my favourite plant in the living room tonight and suddenly saw it as a tree.  Colourful cubbies holding toys would be gone and the tree would have all the light I wish it could have now.  Nights of staying up late to greedily grab as many moments for myself as I could would be gone.

One day my babies will need me in different ways – ways that will feel to me like not being needed at all.

Time will once again be mine and I won’t know what to do with it.




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.



Root Beer Float Meditation

I meditated with my baby today.  Okay, she’s nearly 7 but the number will always be irrelevant to her being my baby.

She pulled up a cushion beside mine and we lit candles, sounded our singing bowl, and settled in.  The feeling of joy that bubbled up inside of me was magical.  Pure joy, pure gratitude for a moment of contemplation with my beautiful daughter.  It was like foam on top of a root beer float – the joy bubbling out of me, overflowing into the world – unable to be contained even if I wanted it to be.  Which I didn’t. This is what I can share with the world every day.  This overwhelming sense of gratitude, of joy.  If I can walk with that every day and bring that to every interaction, my duty is done, my purpose is fulfilled.

She attempted to stifle a yawn that ended with a guttural gurgle.  We opened our eyes to peek at each other and giggle.  Eyes closed again, I visualized a blanket wrapped around us, keeping in the warm, peaceful, safe feeling.  Oh that I could give that to my daughter to carry every day.  In all of her interactions.  Even with the blanket around us in my mind, the peaceful root beer foam bubbled over … it would touch the others in our house, on our street, at her school, in my office …. this is what we can do.

I opened my eyes again to take her in – to observe her in the candlelight.  She’s beautiful of course but the most precious thing in that moment was watching her sit peacefully with her eyes closed.  No device, no TV, no peer group … this girl of mine can sit!  We’ll both carry those quiet peaceful happy moments with us throughout the day.  And that is our service to the world we love.

In gratitude. xo


Bless the Wind

Some gifts are so close to us we can sometimes lose sight of them.

For the past number of years, life has been very exciting for me and my husband – a nearly constant flow of wonderful things; peppered of course with challenges, but mostly dear and wonderful things. We met, fell in love, found jobs, got married, bought a house, had a baby, bought another house, had another baby. It’s been three years since the last “big thing” and I’ve started feeling restless. It’s not time for another baby, we’re happy in our home, we’re fortunately both gainfully employed … so what is next? I’m still young and yet I fell into a sort of mourning – that the most exciting days of my life were behind me. I actually said to myself and to my husband – “What’s next? Just living?!” Luckily a lightning bolt didn’t strike me dead for saying such a thing.

This morning, the winds are howling and a storm is brewing. I love the wind. For me it holds a magical quality. Kite flying is an activity I adore – just me and a kite on a string, playing with the wind. I like it more than my kids do. Winds bring change – they move you in unexpected ways. As I looked out at the trees dancing in the wind this morning, my own personal wind – my breath – caught in my throat and tears swelled in my eyes. I realized something I hadn’t before and was immediately filled with a lightness, an excitement and a very deep gratitude.

I’ve had the honour and pleasure of experiencing some remarkable milestones and now I get to have them again as I watch my children grow and I live their milestones along with them. As a single solitary person, my life is rich, but as a mother — my life has more abundance than I’d ever imagined. As my children grow, I can watch them experience things I can’t remember having done myself. I can delight in their excitement over splashing in puddles, I can cry with them when their hearts are broken knowing that it feels like that pain will never pass. My daughter is a rainbow seeker and she teaches me to look up. My son is headstrong and he reminds me that we can always look within to find our own way.

We can look for the treasures in our daily life or we can think of it as “just living”. The choice is ours and the result will be a difference between a life of drudgery, misunderstanding, boredom, and pain and a life of mystery, celebration, connection, sweet excitement, ceremony, and peace.

Today I remembered which path I’m choosing and I thank the wind for helping to show me.