All of a sudden, there’s space. Glorious empty space for breathing and relaxing into, like a large soft chair with a chenille blanket and a cup of chamomile tea offering cozy reflection time. I’m not sure what prompted the shift in perspective, for that’s exactly what it is… A different way of processing pretty much exactly the same circumstances.
Sweet girl still needs me as much (dare I say “more than”?) as always, asking for my time and attention and dreading separations, but I don’t mind anymore.
I seem to have acquired the ability to distance myself from the emotion that is this three and a half year old spinning ball of energy and moods, yet still observing and responding as need requires, like before. Is this the observer mind that my mindfulness books speak of? I wonder only because I dont feel detached or distant… I love her more fiercely and completely today than yesterday, if that’s possible. All of a sudden, I appreciate who she is in and of herself and love watching her grow and change.
There are some circumstances that prompt an ironic wink or a conspiratorial chuckle from deep within. I can’t seem to find the familiar feelings of frustration and anger when my daughter changes her mind yet again, as she often does. I see myself as part of a motherhood chain that goes back through time. Surely i am the same prehistoric mother who had to run back into the cave for her child’s forgotten security object (perhaps a spoon? A leaf? I don’t know… Were kids allowed childhoods back then or were they put right to work?)
I’ve tried for all these days to get beyond my limitation of exasperation and that sense that too much is being taken from me( time, energy, physical space) with not nearly enough left for myself or anyone else.
When I would carry a magazine article around all day but not getting even a few minutes to read it, or wanting a lazy day when I didn’t have to entertain another person with craft projects, snacks and meals, fun outings or educational teachings.
Sure, I still want those things. But all of a sudden, I see this little person as transient, growing up all too soon and off to live her own life away from me. I have heard from enough empty nesters to realize that the gift of witnessing a childhood should not be wished away. So I am noticing and reveling in all of it … The irrational outbursts, the prideful accomplishments, the firsts and seconds and even the mundane thirds, with a sense of humor and perspective. About time!
I don’t have to solve her “problems” or heal her wounds. She simply needs me to be there. My presence, my attention, my enfolding arms are the most important right now.
by Eloisa James is a lighthearted memoir about her year-long sabbatical in Paris with her family. She was free to do whatever she liked and I enjoyed hearing about it all: her children’s experiences in school, her culinary adventures, her fashion observations. It’s a quick read and quite touching at times. I could definitely see some of her short observations being entertaining Facebook status updates. I must say, I love reading travel narratives and this one does not disappoint. It’s an excellent depiction of an American’s daily life in Paris, with lots of laugh-out-loud passages.
by Alice Kaplan tells the stories of three American women who spent a year studying abroad in Paris. I am amazed at how transformative their Paris year(s) were for these women and how different their experiences were. Three different generations… a debutante, an intellectual and a political activist. What strikes me is that for each of them, it was leaving home and experiencing a foreign city that helped mold them into the famous individuals they each became.
.
by John Green
by Sabrina Ward Harrison
by E.L. James
by Tina Fey
by Maria Duenas
by Amor Towles
by Vanessa Diffenbach
by Shilpi Somaya Gowda
by Amor Towles
by Marjorie Hart
by Paula McLain
by Susan Vreeland
by Kathleen Grissom
by Sarah-Kate Lynch
by Vendela Vida
by Jan-Philipp Sendker
by Tatiana de Rosnay
by Susan Wooldridge
by by Brian Peterson
by Wendy Mogel
by Thich Nhat Hanh
by Thich Nhat Hanh
by Mayim Bialik
by Elizabeth Pantley
Poetic Aperture 