The focus of my walk this morning was an attempt at silence. Not just "not talking" but inner silence, away from the constant, looping thoughts that cloud my mind . I left my iPod on the desk and started my walk. I started repeating a peace centered mantra over and over again as a method of interrupting the noise in my head. All my mind needed was to see the Burke's house (two houses away and dear family friends of ours) as an excuse to go off on a thinking tangent. Within the first three minutes of the walk, my thoughts drifted from "peace" to Mrs. Burke's daughter Kara who is about to have her first baby. Mrs. Burke (or "Markie as I just started calling her a few years ago when I turned 40) emailed us yesterday that Kara will be induced this week if her baby boy does not come on his own. She mentioned that Kara was doing well but was "done" with being pregnant. So I decided in-between my thoughts of "peace" to call her later with some advice about being present with the pregnancy...after all, I 'm a therapist and mother of three. My message would be about staying in the moment, letting go and allowing the universe to unfold as it needs to. I was going to tell her that she has the rest of her life to spend with her son, walking around, breathing the air, but perhaps only a few more hours or days of the sensation of carrying him around inside of her. I was going to tell her about the current chaos in my house- getting three girls ready for the start of school. The electronics, the blathering on the phone, the music, the tears, the fighting, shopping requests, laughing and constant motion. It is almost impossible for me to recall the stillness we had 13 years ago, before our oldest was born. I was going to tell her how she will never again be this still with his soul. That he will soon belong to the world and now is the time to sit in the stillness and keep her mind in the present moment, the only place we can truly access God. My mothering lecture would end with specific instructions: Leave thoughts of the birth for the time of birth. Leave worries of the future for the future. For now, just be in the moment without judgment. Embrace the swollen feet and cranky mood, its all part the process.
Sounds good right?? Yup, I would call her tonight and release my wealth of wisdom on her.
Half way up Old Farm Road my mind drifted from Kara's unborn son back onto my own life. Racing thoughts of my daily life came rushing in...a conflict I'm in with someone I love, the stress about all that needs to be done for Heartworks, my father-in-law's illness, Charlie's next brain scan, school starting and Mary getting on the bus for kindergarten. I started making my lists, holding court in my head with people I am judging, fearing change and making plans for how I can possibly manipulate and control the outcomes.
All of a sudden I caught myself and stopped in my tracks and looked up at the trees. 15 minutes ago I was all "one with the universal flow" walking under a beautiful blue sky assisting young Kara in the art of letting go and being present in the moment. I stood in stunned amazement as I have so many times before at how stinkin' difficult it is to live these basic spiritual concepts . I can have poetic sayings printed on the walls of Heartworks and send them out in inspiring emails, but the truth is it is much easier to suggest to Kara how to be present with her uncertainty than it is to actually live it in my own life. Giving lectures are always easier than living them. A woman about to give birth is as clear as an example as you can get to living in the unknown and trusting in a higher source. In actuality we are all doing this each day, it is just not as obvious without the supposed due date, finished nursery and packed bag. So I have decided not to make the call. The truth is, Kara and Matt will figure it out on their own. so instead of refining my lecture, I prayed. I prayed for all of us living on the edge of uncertainty of what will happen in the future. I prayed for the ability and courage to spend more time in silence. I prayed for Kara, Matt and "Junior." I walked the rest of the way home in silence. Sort of.
