Sweet Day

Went out tonight, rested and calm after an idyllic day spent with my family. Peaceful, connected sit tonight, but a lot of self-distraction against writing about it now. Not sure why.

Tuned in to my sense of the web I have written of before. This tool has been coming to mind frequently of late, helping me to return again and again to the balance I wish to cultivate in my life. I believe that sitting and reflecting on my sits regularly has helped the web exercise to resurface as a part of my daily life, and also, I believe, the fact that I am again listening to Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now daily, which is such a powerful support in remaining present and grounded.

Tonight, sensing the web brought me immediately into awareness of my own visibility in the dark yard; the daylily and milkweed garden beside the back porch suddenly transformed into a potential hiding spot that I could crouch behind for cover.

Walked, slowly and silently, out towards the apple tree, sat down under it. Listened to the crickets, felt the cool air hugging me. Reflected on the day, full of so many pleasures: sleeping in, knowing my boy and husband were getting time together, only cooking one meal today, napping on the bed in the afternoon, dinner with my husband's family, and our sweet bedtime, the boy finally getting his wish to have his father snuggle with us when we go in to bed. In fact, my husband did the entire bedtime routine with him tonight as well, for the first time in their lives (I could also say the boy accepted my husband's participation in it for the first time), and I only joined them on the way to bed. The boy lay so happily snuggled between us, his face glowing with a silent smile, the picture of perfect contentment, a happy little being. He turned to me and wrapped his little arm around my neck, but turned back toward his father over and over again, as if to check that he was still there. Then his eyes slowly closed, and he drifted quietly off to sleep more quickly than I can remember him doing in months.

Now my husband is playing an Uwe Rosenberg game with a new friend, a fellow who brings the same gifts to friendship as my husband does.

A lovely day, full of leisure, restedness, enough time to myself, and surrounded by family. It is a great effort for me to recall the details about which I want to write now. I have yet to discover the source of my distraction, but at this point am content to be lulled by the pleasures of the day, the quiet music playing, and allow myself to drift off to sleep as contentedly as my little man.