The Perfect Moment

This past Sunday I sat snugly on our hand-me-down couch.  I had a new baby in my arms; I was warm; I was looking out a big window at gentle snow falling in the mountains in which we have settled; our house was full with family and we all happened to be in the same room; Francesca was snuggled in with her cousin and they were both laughing and Lilian too was laughing which was music to my ears as she had been sick for three days.

And I thought to myself, "this moment right here is perfect."  Directly after I experienced this moment and had a wave of relaxation and freedom wash over me, my heart felt grateful for the fact that I was present enough to experience this gentle storm of ordinary moments.  My goal now is to notice or rather allow myself to experience one "perfect moment" a day.

I write this, mind you, after a morning replete with difficult moments...tears, literal grasping (aka grabbing), whining, pulling, moments of not knowing what to say or do or think.  But it is precisely because of the challenges of everyday life that the recognition of ordinary perfection becomes like a life preserver in such gusty and uncertain waters.

The Body Is A Miracle

Just a note that this blog post was perfectly constructed.
At 3:30am.
In my head, that is.

Part of me is scared to write.
What is this fear?
A fear of not having the words;
a fear of not having enough time to finish (and just as I write this, a little one wakes);
a fear of the nagging that I should be doing something else.

But enough clearing.
On with my story of why the body is a miracle...here goes...

The day before I went into labor I reached out to a friend.  I wrote something like, "I am not feeling well and am scared that I wont have the strength to give birth."  She responded, as I undoubtedly knew she would, "Oh no.  You can't lose your strength.  That can't happen."  I must have known that I needed this extra kick.

So I woke the morning that I ended up giving birth with a determination to build my strength.  Fortunately, I knew what to do.  After I made breakfast, played with the girls, cleaned, took a shower, made lunch, prepared snack, drove Francesca to school and put Lilian down for a nap, I promptly went to my room.  I even delayed lunch so that I could do the necessary work of building my strength.  And this is what I did:

I went straight to my yoga mat.  I had been going there once a day for a month (I had to really lower my expectation of what "going to my yoga mat" meant because I knew the extreme importance of it.  I constructed a brief, strength based practice that concluded with a three minute movement meditation and a 3 minute mudra meditation) but on this day the power that I felt from my practice was intense.  I did more strong, deep goddesses; my arms moved with a power that came from a deep place; I held my warriors....I let my body lead the way.  I was focused in my meditation and when I was through I went directly to my bed.

I laid down and allowed my body/mind to do the work.  And this is what happened; this is the meat of it all.  My mind sent messages to my body to let go. I wish I could remember exactly what it was saying, but I suppose it is not important.  What happened was that my mind, in direct connection with my body, let go.  It let go of being pregnant.  It let go of the sweetness and the challenge and the intimacy and unconditional quality and miracle of pregnancy.  This, right here, was the work.

Four hours later, my first contraction came along.  I was struck, but not surprised, by the power and miracle that is our body.

And here we are.