last january, i wrote this, and set out on a journey toward a deeper wholeness. a year later? i am (slowly, slowly) learning to think new fundamental thoughts about all things holy and true.
the following is a journal entry i wrote today. i hope you enjoy the snapshot of utter joy.
…
It is a cold, grey, rainy Friday afternoon. I took the day off in anticipation of our upcoming road trip, but mostly with a come-what-may spirit toward something—anything—creative that a day off would bring. And such a day began with a proper lie-in till 8:30, and then another half hour of snuggling with Jude in bed, squinting our eyes to see the odd snowflake amidst the drizzle. I won’t say I did not see one.
Jude and I reminisced under warm blankets about the last time it snowed, two years ago. We watched a video of baby Ziggy from that day, red-cheeked and cooing about the weather with his raspy voice. She giggled and giggled, my girl. When she realized that both of us were wearing warm winter nightshirts with no pants, she declared us the pantless twins. And then we looked through photos of our family on my phone, until we surfaced for breakfast. We got dressed together; she refused to go downstairs without me. “I want to be where you are,” she always says these days, and then she asks me to hold her hand as we walk downstairs together.
After breakfast, we the fambly bundled up in warmest coats, and headed into town for Haircut Day. Zig was successfully bribed into sitting still with the promise of a big candy cane, and was a champ, despite the awful, impatient woman who cut his hair without a word. I gave up instructing her on what I wanted; she simply cut his hair the way she wanted to. I held my hand over his eyes to keep the hair out. He is stunningly gorgeous.
Jude, of course, chatted up her hair stylist the whole time, and was a pro. And H? She had awful stylist woman too, and came out looking just like Judi Dench, which is all she ever wanted anyway. She looks smokin’ hot.
Of course, my boy fell asleep on the way home, nub of candy cane still in hand, and pink stickiness all over every bit of exposed skin. I laid him on his bed, rolled him out of his sticky coat, and wiped his face, his hands; he was limp the whole time. And then I tucked him in, with two trucks beside him, and for all I know, he is still sleeping, nearly three hours later.
After a leisurely lunch with my ladies, I left the nest, driving to the only place where I know I can write: my favorite coffee shop. Obviously, the energy of this place is substantially different in the afternoon than the quiet womb of caffeine I’m used to at 7am. But I’m sat just to the left of my spot, and these words are coming. I feel calm, and something like centered.
And. I think I am remembering (discovering?) that every moment of my life—as it is, without even the slightest shift toward change—is perfect. Now. I can chronicle this quotidian day off business because, glory be, I don’t need anything more than a morning with my family to feel whole.
I talked to Marlei on New Years Day. She went out of her way to praise me for the creativity I put forth on Facebook, and while my first instinct was to argue that it isn’t enough—I should be doing more, writing more, making more time, etc—instead, I listened to what she was saying: I am still making creative contributions, and the scope has little bearing on the intention and impact. Thirty seconds of intentional mindfulness has great meaning. It is enough. It is enough.
I am brought back to Anne Lamott’s Help, Thanks, Wow meditation. At the very end of the book, at amen, she quotes Matisse: “I don’t know whether I believe in God or not. I think, really, I’m some sort of Buddhist. But the essential thing is to put oneself in a frame of mind which is close to that of prayer.”
If I have one New Year’s resolution, it would be just that: without the pressure and baggage of Our Father…in Jesus’ name, I will open myself up to that prayer-like frame of mind. For I have fully felt what it is like to allow my soul to expand in a holy moment. And here are all these holy moments right in front of me, one after the next after the next. What a shame to miss even one of them. Amen.
we are fambly. 