I had an epiphany the other night. Two, actually.
First, I was able to take a teaching from yoga class and apply it to my life. It felt somewhat groundbreaking.
I go to yoga weekly and love it. I’ve never been into group fitness classes, but the instructor and energy in the room make me feel so good. It might sound hokey, but I leave feeling like a better person. I’ve even been moved to tears. I like it that much.
Last class our instructor invited us to think about ways in which we are greedy, and proposed that if we always focus on what we don’t have, we’ll miss what’s right in front of us. Something like that: pretty sure she was more eloquent than what I write here.
Fast forward to an evening where I’m nursing my son to sleep on our bed. Usually when I nurse him, I have my phone with me so that once he drifts off, I can go on facebook or Twitter or whatever. For some reason, I didn’t have it with me. I silently cursed myself, trying to figure out how I could get it without waking the baby. Can’t yell to APB! Do I want it badly enough to walk down the stairs while nursing a sleeping baby? No.
Then I get thinking how wouldn’t it be handy and nice if we had a TV in our bedroom so in cases like this, I could sit and watch TV. Not the first time I’ve wished for a second television.
We don’t have a TV and I don’t have my phone, but instead of focusing on that, I tried to be present. And in that moment, wasn’t my life sweet. I was nursing and cuddling my baby in the darkness with the only light coming from the fireplace. My two cats were at my feet. The only sound was my singing.
For the past few months, I’ve sung a simple, made-up song before naps and bedtime. I usually whisper it because I could never find a tune I liked.
My second epiphany: I finally found the tune. And I sang it over and over and over to my baby boy. It was beautiful. It made me want to stand time still. He’s already technically a toddler. Then he’ll be a little boy. Then a teenager. And then I will positively yearn for those quiet moments in bed by the fireplace, singing a made-up lullaby.
By the way, because I am crazy , I recorded myself singing that song in the hopes I might be able to find the tune on the piano. When I told my husband this, he looked at me and said, I love you. I wasn’t sure how to take that. When I asked if that was because he thought I was crazy or a good mom, he replied, Both.
So it’s true. We can focus on what we don’t have or we can focus on what we DO have, and then we’ll realize what we have is beautiful and more good things will follow.
I can’t wait for next week’s yoga teaching. And I can’t wait to find my song on the piano.
You are safe, you are loved.
Mommy will be with you when you wake up.
Mommy and Daddy both love you very much.