A Moment for Me.
It's 9:21 am and I am finally sitting down to my cup of coffee.
And an egg with avocado toast. Mmm. The smell of my coffee signals my consciousness that it's finally here, the coveted me time of the day. It's already been a maniacal morning, but in this very moment, a stillness washes over the room and I am almost at peace.
The baby is down for his morning nap, the husband is off at the salt mines (just kidding, work), and I have a few holy moments all to myself. Sometimes its hard to know quite what to do with these moments. There is a battle in my chest (I always imagine my mind in my chest, I don't know why?) throwing arrows at each other for who wins the awarded me time today. There is a rush from one side of my mind/chest that overwhelms me in a swelling wave, "Pick up the vacuum cleaner! Throw in that load of laundry (or 6)! Get started on food prep for dinner!", and there's another part of me that shouts, "Do something for yourself! Write that collaborative post for such and such company! Throw on some yoga pants and stretch! Submit a story to Real Simple Magazine (like you've been wanting to do)! Get back to those 6 people hanging out in your Gmail inbox that are waiting for your response!" Yes, the battle might seem silly to you. But it's my internal struggle. And then there's the never-ending to-do list. That could use some of my attention, as well. But the truth is, none of those things will reallllllly make me feel accomplished or valuable. In the moment, yes, I can do a few of those tasks and check the boxes on my list. And that is a good, valid reason to feel some sort of meaning today. But I want more than to just feel good and valid.
Sitting silently, hands cupped around this beautiful piece of glazed pottery containing the morning's mystical blackened ambrosia, well, that's just what I'm going to do right now. I'm going to sit. In silence. And I'm gonna drink my coffee.
Eyes closed, mug poised at my lips, I am going to quite literally drink in this whole long moment. You know what happens during this quiet moment? I get really, really grateful. This spirit of gratitude comes in its quiet, humble sort of way, and without asking permission, walks silently across the battlefield of my mind (chest). A hush. The quivers drop. The arrows fall lifelessly mid-flight. This little spirit of gratitude, looking much like Piglet from Winne the Pooh, hovers its way out onto the battle field. Stands there for a moment. And all of a sudden there is nothing sudden. Stillness extends from the east to the west of my internal atlas and the menace has halted. This is the moment, the one I've been waiting for.
I'm am going to gobble this moment up, whole, cultivating some meditation. The gratitude. It reminds me that I am a blessed woman, with a beautiful family to call mine. This family. The ones whom I've sacrificed much for - a slammin' career, a perfectly toned physique, all kinds of delicious selfish pursuits, and sometimes my sanity. But this sublime pyramid of human joy whom I am so proud of, so thrilled to be part of building; these sweet spirits who I would gladly tumble over a cliff for. My Stevie and my Everett. I am so grateful for this life. I wouldn't have it any other way. I would choose the path I've experienced over anyone else's life because it has been the sweetest, most personally deepening and even more surprising than I could have ever conjured.
Thank you Lord. I am appreciative for this moment on my morning, thankful for the reminder to be grateful, thankful for the truth that nothing worth having ever comes easily. But it is so worth it. And as the baby begins to cry again, I take a deep breath, because I am recharged with a faith in myself. Recharged with the peace. Recharged with the precious, darling caffeine.