This evening, after dinner conversation and all were excused from table; i began to clean up. The 15th month old was getting his hands full of whatever exciting bacteria lives within the opened dishwasher, the 3 remaining dispersed to their chosen place of being and as the husband picked up the 15th month old, my mind happily took me back to Europe. My eyes traveled from soapy sponge to my already 'back in America' trend of Capris pants and tank top and I spoke aloud, "John, after this is cleaned, I am going to take a few quiet moments to write...I don't need to go anywhere, but maybe I will close the door and take in some solitude." Husband's response (with good intention), "Let's put this one (baby) down first and you can have all the moments you want."
So, wanting to take in and process present reality; i am shifted. Baby does not go down easily as planned. I find myself singing, and reading books to this little one, thinking, "You are taking me away from my needed transciption of where i am, where i was, and affects. I am with you instead."
At end of routine, i walk down the hall, pick up my lap top and say " I will be out in back."
Taking in another attempt --- but really, an attempt at what? Words? Words to give body and depth? To what? A hurried desire?
Sitting on a chaise upon the lawn, swatting at mosquitoes on a humid evening, taking in sound of baseball game across the street, a ringing telephone, a neighbor's laugh and a weed whacker finishing off this orchestral symphony; playing my song.
I ask for a moment to digest reality; but in truth, this IS my reality. It's fleeing, too quick to grab a hold, it's lost. Baby cries in the distance. Time to be *in* and take center stage in reality.
Thanks for listening
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