So life always feels pretty busy
these days. Lately though it has felt more than busy. At times I feel the
frantic pace of running from one task to the next like that of a hamster on its
wheel. Among the usual (two kids, home, yoga, church and opera), has been a
visit from my 94-year-old grandparents. The timing just so happened that they
are here during the final days before the big spring show opens. I could also
add that this particular show seemed to be wrought with a significant amount of
unforeseen difficulties, each one requiring time, energy, lots of extra emails and
a certain amount of emotional babysitting.
My toddler seems to have amped up
his toddlerhood-ness, both in his ability to get into new perils, and his
separation anxiety. He can now stand on tiptoe. His reach is just that little
bit longer. This opens up a whole world of new objects to touch, scratch and
ideally pull onto himself or the floor creating a crash – the louder the
better, so much more satisfying! The separation anxiety has turned into the
scenario that he is playing happily, perfectly content, but the moment he sees
me he begins to cry and beg to be picked up and held. I literally hide from my
baby so he will keep playing happily, all the while trying to survey him without
him being able to catch my view. At night my boob is his sleep aid. Calvin has
coined him my baby husband, and me
his mamma wife.
I usually teach one yoga class a
week and occasionally sub, but these last few weeks I am teaching two or three.
I feel obliged to say yes because we
too are planning our summer vacations, and I will want my fellow Yoginis to
feel charitable towards me and willing to return the favor.
I have been and am enjoying
having my grandparents here. It is nice to have their company. I especially
enjoy having tea with them in the afternoons. Truth be told though, it is more
work. I set up and plan three meals a day and prepare medications. I need to
plan meals that are not too spicy (much to my husband’s chagrin) and that are
easy to chew! On days where we were gone long hours because of the show, I was
not only packing lunches and snacks for us, but brainstorming how best to
assure a hot meal for them, without worrying about the house being burned down
upon return. Turns out the crockpot became my new best friend.
All this not to complain. It is
what it is, just more to do and plan. The last show was last Saturday, and on
Sunday Calvin and I performed at church. It is Monday, and I am breathing a
sigh of relief. Life is still busy, but less so, and I am reflecting back on
these past few weeks. Pierson got to play a gingerbread boy and an angel in the
show. He begged me for the last how to be an echo too, and he was. He said to me yesterday afternoon, "I am
sad the show is over. Hansel and Gretel
was my favorite Capitol Opera Richmond show." My heart
smiled. All the headaches of that show were dissolved in an instant -- my six-year-old
boy loves opera!
I realized during this busy time
that the faster you run on the wheel, the faster it goes, the more tasks you
set before you, the more there will be. I still managed to make time daily for
a minimum meditation, and I trust through what I am told and hope that it makes
a difference. But deep inside I know how much more it can be when it is not just
another action checked off of a to-do list.
I felt the strong sense of
futility at times, like cleaning up Soren's orchestra of pots and pans for the 100th time, full
well knowing it would reappear shortly, yet still savoring those 45 seconds of
happy play.
Some mornings after coffee I feel
like superwoman: laundry (check), unload
dishwasher (check), prepare breakfast
(check), task, task, task (check, check, check)! Then four
o'clock rolls around and I feel done. Sounds feel aggressive. The dog barks hysterically
at a passerby just as Soren was getting to sleep. I calm the baby down and just
then P storms in, slams the door. The dog goes crazy again. P demands in his
loudest outdoor voice his latest material needs for his newest experiment.
"I can't help you now P, I am trying to get the baby to sleep." P
whines and protests, slams the door, the dog goes crazy, the baby cries louder.
Mami comes in and tries "tapper les petits main", which only makes
him scream more for fear she will try to take him from me. He needs sleep, not stimulation.
Right on cue, a grumpy Papi will chime in: "Somebody take care of that
child, I am thirsty, someone get me a drink, and when are we going back to
Paris?" The wheel is spinning so fast it is impossible to step off.
My legs are breaking beneath me. It
is another day. Heading home from the gym for lunch, Soren falls asleep in the
car -- perfect. I move his seat in the sitting room and shut the door to
prepare omelets for myself and the grandparents. I have a moment of calm to
savor.... but I don't. My mind is active and my gestures are quick. Get the
eggs, quick, quietly close refrigerator. Quick! mix, chop, cook, serve, gobble.
No enjoyment of the calm, the baby is still sleeping. I have forgotten how to
relax, the wheel is still spinning full force and I longer know how to slow it
down and enjoy the moment. I stop and breathe and think. I must stop the wheel
and learn to walk at a moderate pace and simply step off to sit when needed. I
must take the time to look in my children's eyes when they have a need, not to
feel annoyed that they are merely getting in the way of yet another task. The
tasks are endless, but their sweet innocence is fleeting and worth soaking in.
My husband deserves a happier
wife, not one who resents a touch that gets in the way of a task, the task can
wait. Maybe someday he will no longer try to caress a shoulder knowing it will
be met with annoyance. Maybe someday he will be gone too soon, and I will look
back and wish I had taken thirty seconds away from preparing dinner to
entertain a hug. We are told and it is true, these things will be eaten by
moths, turned to dust. It is nice to look at a pretty home that is clean and
orderly, but a little mess, or dinner an hour later is ok too.
The wheel can turn, but I want to
step on and step off. I want to come back to what matters most. Intention and
awareness are the first steps toward change. I no longer want to buy into the illusion
that accomplishing more tasks makes for a profitable day. I want to embrace the
truth of what truly holds significance and bring it back to the forefront. The
wheel is flowing at a comforting pace, it has learned to rock and lilt, back
and forth, like the ebb and flow of the ocean, or a hammock blowing in the
breeze. I am here, present, no longer living in the racing, spinning, mind.
Life is perfect and I am grateful for good health and blessings. And so the
story goes on.
