In the night, when the sky was still a blanket of dark, my little guy came into my room and whispered, “Mommy, I really do have a cold.”
He climbed into bed next to me and let me put my arms around him, soothing his little stuffy head and comforting him in the way only a mother can. I lay awake for hours, noticing the feel of his warm, slender body beside me, feeling absolute bliss at my rich life.
As usual, I woke today before the rest of the house – one eye open and then the next – daylight already fallen through the shades. We are heading to the mountains for a nature-based new year – no school, no work for a week, just family and air and elevation.
Dressed, I went downstairs and opened the doorwall to meditate. Under my blanket of comfort, eyes closed to the immediate, turning inward for salvation, I silently muttered my mantra.
My oldest boy came downstairs and, wordless, sat next to me to join the vibration. “Do you want to sit in my lap?” I asked and my 10-year-old climbed under the blanket and into my embrace. It was like our two hearts were beating together, as we once did so many years ago.
At some point, my little guy joined us, again silent, again wrapped in the warm vibration of a higher resonance.
It’s funny how in a family, the members meander into the kitchen in early morning one after the next, suspended in just-awakening limbo. Dan made coffee, I made coffee, we scrambled eggs, toasted waffles, poured the maple syrup. Eventually, my girl stumbled into the day.
And then it was like we had so little time until we had to go – thankfully, the flight was pushed back from our initial early takeoff. Thankfully, we were all together, finding out way into a new day unlike the regular routine, full of adventure ahead and uncharted anticipation.
We need vacation and journey to gain perspective on our daily lives. I need it to tie into my inner vibration and remember to take the time for silence and contemplation. In the workaday world, I forget to stop and breathe.
And so, we go forth to a new frontier, literally, figuratively, metaphorically, however you want to view it. The five of us today and for the next six days, together, in silence and in voice, on marked trails and unmarked paths. Always a journey. And I realize, gratefully, this morning that THIS is how it’s meant to be – noticing the moments, remembering to breathe.