The morning is dark and still. The alarm goes off, but she doesn’t stir. I slip out of bed, leaving my eldest daughter sweetly snoring. As always, she’d joined me in the night. Hours earlier, as I was about to gently extricate her after being inadvertently kicked and head butted one too many times, she softly murmured “I love you, Mommy.” So in love with her, I spent the wee hours perched on the sliver of bed that remained uninhabited by this tiny, yet somehow vast, child.
The floor is cold. I shuffle into my slippers. I switch on the coffee pot and it begins to percolate. I’ve learned to do that little bit of nighttime prep that allows me to simply flip the switch in the morning, getting that sweet nectar with so little effort.
As I wait, cup in hand, my eyes wander into the living room, where I had a wonderful meditation experience the day before, with my group.
Dare I try? Still no one is stirring.
I abandon my coffee mug and head into the living room. I place a pillow on the floor. I sit, close my eyes, and begin mindful breathing. I visualize a light flickering over a distant mountaintop.
I recite my mantra –
What is that noise?
It’s the cat.
The cat is peeing. How can a cat, peeing three inches below himself, into SAND (basically), be LOUD? What the heck?
Okay, he’s done. Good.
Where was I? Oh, right…light flickering over mountaintop, mindful breathing…
What the…? Okay, now the cat is covering up his pee.
Relax. Keep breathing…
What the hell? How much pee is there? Dude, are you making a sand sculpture in there or what?! Come on!
Pitter patter, pitter patter…
“Mama? Where are you?”
“I’m in the living room.”
My sleepy-eyed baby climbs into my lap. Sucking her thumb, she leans into me and twirls my hair around her tiny fingers.
Oh, her sweet smell.