My baby falls asleep
I lay her down on her belly
And a moment of panic kicks in
How long do I have?
Is this a cat nap?
Or a longer slumber?
My mind races through all the things I’d like to do
During these precious minutes.
Self care sounds good.
I’d love to meditate,
Or move my body.
But there’s also so many texts I need to respond to,
And of course there’s cleaning.
How much laundry is there?
Can it wait?
Can the dishes in the sink
Soak a little longer?
Do I have to check things off on my to-do?
And the clock keeps ticking
What will serve my whole being most in this moment?
The freeze in my system
Begins to thaw
And I realize stillness
Will best support the
Busyness in my brain.
Not more action in this moment.
But to just get silent,
And still,
And resourced,
And so I sit.
Quietly.
Allowing my mind to settle
And my heart to open.
I rest into the All
Merging into Union.
Resourcing my whole being
As my baby lays in this field of wholeness with me.
The clock keeps ticking
But my heart is no longer beating to that arbitrary rhythm.
Instead she’s finding her own rhythm,
back in sync with
The trees
And the mountains
And the flowers
And the ocean,
All of Mama Gaia.
And all of eternity
Reuniting once again
With that which is holding me as I hold my child.
For if I’ve lost this thread
I could let overwhelm
Engulf me.
But I’m not interested
In feeding my baby with sour breast milk
That’s full of
Worry
And fear
And anxiety.
And so the cleaning will get done
I will return those messages
But from a place that’s full.
Not full of depletion
But full of trust
And knowing
That all will be done
In its perfect timing.
My baby stirs
And I feel fulfilled
By this moment of writing.
Tapping the creative currents of my soul
To speak her wisdom
Once again.