I am always rushing, to get kids to out the door to school, preschool and daycare, then rushing to work and then rushing meeting to meeting. Only to rush back to daycare, preschool and school. I wish most days had a pause button, where for a moment I could pause time. In all reality, I wish I was the type of person who waited at trains.
Do they see the world through a different lens with intention and thought? The rhythmic clacking of the tracks, clicking by one at a time. The unique stories told on the side of each car that has become the canvas of someone’s graffiti. This slight interruption has the power to refocus and center us in the midst of a reality that not everything can be controlled by us.
I describe our mornings as the “seal,” the moment one foot hits the ground the seal is broken and our world comes alive. I linger in bed, snuggling whatever little one crept their way into my room in the middle of the night, desiring to keep our lives calm a bit longer. Once feet are down, the house is up and so begins the movement of our day.
In the chaos of our days and lives it seems I get so distracted by the things to do. I watch myself move from task to task, sometimes juggling 5 unfinished tasks. My brain feels full and my heart distracted. The to do list threatens to trump the little ones hanging on my legs, just wanting me.
These last several days illness has struck our home, I have been home all weekend, having to cancel plans and call into work. Having little ones hanging out with me as we all recover from a lingering stomach bug. Past the lingering nausea in the pit of my stomach is anxiety, the pressure of all the unfinished tasks and missed appointments.
I watched how our city was mapped out and realized in the name of efficiency we have built bridges that take people up and over train tracks to avoid the inconvenience. We have built a way around that interruption, giving us the ability to just keep going. What secret are we missing in the pause of the train tracks?
The moment we miss letting the rhythm sink in, allowing our mind the clear. The moment to just sit back for a moment and take a breath, counting the train cars as they go by. I am realizing that in my desire to do more and be more I often miss what is right in front of me.
Today my little, almost big boy baby stayed home with me. We played, we laughed and we snuggled for a brief moment while he drank his bottle. These days that is the only moment he will slow down and be held. Once the last drop is gone and he springs into action.
He stared up at me with his big gray blue eyes, a slight smile peeked from behind his bottle as we chatted. These are the moments we miss, when our eyes are the to dos and the reroute. When our days are filled with the bridges built to miss the inconveniences. I am learning that it is often in the interruptions that I find the beauty.
So today I will snuggle my growing Littles, cherishing the days I have with them and tomorrow will put my car in park and wait.