It’s Monday and I’ve been home today with a sick child. As I type this, Callee is behind me asleep on my bed. I’m listening to her restless breath and it somehow emphasizes my role as mother. Today I’ve had to be completely checked in, when lately I’ve spent a lot of time somewhere else in my mind. My book group met yesterday and we talked about being present.
“No one has it within his ability to live yesterday and no one can live tomorrow. There is only one time in which we can live, and that is now, in this instant; it is what we are in this instant, that constitutes our life.” Joel S. Goldsmith from “Practicing the Presence”
I read and write all about being present, getting out of the past and future, quieting the monkey mind and yet lately I’ve let that monkey drive me all over the map. We’ve visited all kinds of places in the past and just LOVE it in the future. What does this mean? Where is this taking me? Who will I be and what will I become? Then today, my daughter wakes up with a fever of 102 and with a screeching halt I park in the moment. Or at least I try to. I make arrangements to get big sister to school so I can devote my day to her. I give her medicine and scootch into the chair next to her. I hold her warm body close to mine and feel her rapid pulse. I know as long as she can sing along to PBS and crack a smile at me that she is OK. I pay attention to my body, my stomach mostly, as it always tells me when something is WRONG. She is alright. The medicine seems to be working.
Later in the day the fever is back, 103 this time, and the medicine should still be working. I pick up the phone and call the doctor. While I am on hold, I come to the computer and check my email. A strange sound comes from the other room. I checked out when I should have been present and Callee has thrown up all over herself. I put the phone down and clean her up. I must be here now.
Before I sat down to write this post, I laid with Callee in bed while she drifted off to sleep. I am the most important person in her life. She needs me to be available and her sickness reminds me of what I am versus what I want to be. Yes, I want to be a successful, published writer one day and because of that I spend most of my days like a narrator in my head creating a story out of my life. And sometimes, as I form the beautiful words in my head to describe the moments I’m revisiting…I miss the beauty in that very moment. Right now, I am a mother. The past is gone and the future will never arrive. And being home with a sick child sucks, but at least I am available enough to know it.
Now I am off to cuddle my precious 3-year-old daughter and hope that tomorrow brings good health her way….(of course there I am in the damn future again.)