This is a quote from a bereaved mother who writes a blog called Becoming:
This is what Death gives us: the ability to realize the preciousness of every moment in the world. The preciousness and the destruction. The joy and the sorrow. The beauty and the pain. I am here ever-so-briefly. I want to live life. To live life wildly. And free. To do those things which will enrich the moment without paying mind to what others may think or say about what should and shouldn’t be. To surrender to the little girl who longs to play and seek and explore and just be. To cry when tears ask for a gateway, to stand in awe at those tiny spaces of life that are so easy to walk past, to live big – not small. I want color and contrast and silence and music and all of it. And, I am not afraid of life and the pains that it brings.
Today’s intention was to Be Kind.
I don’t think I really did anything differently today. I got up. The boys got up. Instead of the usual morning scramble, we took our time eating breakfast (well, they ate while I drank coffee) and getting dressed before school. Afterwards, I headed home to dress for a job interview (which went well) and then home to…. to… to… I did a little of the usual drudgery that includes laundry and dishes, but I wasn’t feeling too motivated. I kept checking e-mail like a maniac. I made a few appointments, chatted briefly with a friend, re-read the final chapter of a book I love, and watched my eldest practice swimming (amazing).
I wasn’t Unkind, but I wasn’t Super Kind in the way I had imagined. Not sure what I thought I’d do… feed the hungry, heal the unwell? Since I was home most of the day, that didn’t happen.
Someone asked me today what I’d like — ANYTHING — to achieve or make happen within the next six months. I thought for a moment. These questions tend to stump me, but this time I immediately landed on something. I want a new house. Maybe not in six months. But definitely in the next year or two. I envision a home with a bit more space for two active boys. And I want a teensy space just for me.
In this space I will place few things. A candle or two. Photographs. A writing desk (and a computer, because my handwriting is atrocious). A yoga mat and a cozy blanket. I told this person about this dream that I didn’t even realize I had. It felt quite good to speak the words aloud.
Kindness was the intention of the day. I’d fully intended to practice Kindness onto Others. But what happened, quite unexpectedly, was that I began to practice Kindness onto Myself.
And here’s the shocking truth. I do not feel one single iota of guilt about it.
Hours in my day are open and unscheduled for the first time in years. I intend to work hard to make my home a more peaceful, uncluttered and clean abode. I intend to spend long hours with my children learning and playing and loving. But I also intend to enjoy a little time, all by myself, and appreciate every moment.
This part of the above quote resonated deeply:
(I want) to do those things which will enrich the moment without paying mind to what others may think or say about what should and shouldn’t be. To surrender to the little girl who longs to play and seek and explore and just be.
That is precisely what I seek to do over the next several months. And I love the word surrender. How did the writer know?
I look forward to sharing the experience with my dear readers, friends and family. Always, thank you for being a part of my journey.