The Bigger, Bigger Picture

Lately I constantly feel like I'm on the verge of something... something bigger than me.  Something bigger than life.  I don't know how to explain it.  It's a strange feeling, and maybe it's just because I'm often inside of my own brain a lot, since I spend a good deal of my time talking to toddlers.  But I just can't shake this feeling.

When I say I'm "on the verge of something bigger"... I don't mean it in a, "I'm about to make a huge discovery" kind of way.  It's difficult to describe.  Maybe it's just more of an incredibly strong sensation of "there is something much bigger than us".  I don't know what that something is.  I couldn't even begin to guess.  I don't subscribe to any particular religious views.  I don't believe there is a "God".  I certainly have always prescribed to the idea that there is much more beyond our human selves that we couldn't even begin to understand.  But lately I just can't ignore this sort of "tuning in"... if you will.

Now don't shake your head, and don't get worried that I'm going to hop on the bandwagon into some new-agey bibble-babble and take a flying leap into trying to contact my ancestors by candlelit ouija board.  You needn't worry that I'm going to start building altars to nymphs, ferries, or gnomes.  There is no need for alarm.  More than anything I feel like I just need to give voice to this...thing...I'm feeling.

It's most strong when I'm at home during the day with the kids.  I can't shake this feeling that I'm not alone.  Yes.  I know.  I'm not... there are three other tiny humans in the house with me.  But it's more than that.  It's not a scary, haunting feeling, as if I'm being watched or something of that nature.  It's just this undeniable sensation that across the UNFATHOMABLE vastness of our universe, we are connected to... to what?  To what.  I don't know.  Just that.  That we are connected.

Could it just be that the subject of life and death has been a common topic in my conversations of late, and so I'm naturally thinking about it more?  Could it be that I generally think about it more often, since having a daughter? Maybe it's simply a 'Serotonin Effect' from getting back to a healthier lifestyle.  Or perhaps it's just wishful thinking... my own hopes manifesting themselves in new ways... because to me, it's a beautiful thought to be so connected.

Mom Brain... Ya Dig?

Sometimes having 'Mom Brain' follows the widely accepted definitions of:
A) Not knowing where anything is at any given moment--especially the car keys or my debit card.
B) Being so distracted by making sure your child is safe, that you can't remember your own name
C) Mincing words, and leaving things in weird places because your brain just kind of feels like a pile of goo.

But I've found that in some ways, being a Mom has helped me out in a couple of areas.  It's like suddenly I don't have time to dwell too much on my thoughts that can spiral into anxiety about performing well.  And that has worked to my advantage.

Enter Running and Singing.

Today I celebrate my puddle-of-goo Mama Brain.

Picture this

Bigger Picture.

That's my current mantra.

It's just too easy to lie dormant, and I don't like things easy.

The challenge is in getting out of my head.  That's where the true work lies. 

Bigger Picture.

Bigger Picture.

Well, that just happened

I left the gym this evening a much better person than the gal who walked in.  I ditched that angry turd somewhere around the half mile mark.  Thank goodness--she is such a drag!

Oh... and I am STILL a runner.

Ramble on, Sing this song

It's cold this morning.  My toes are popsicles.
Zeke is shivering.  But Zeke shivers when it's 70 degrees outside.  The heat is on, but the wood floors are cold, and like Zeke, I would thrive in 90 degree weather!

Lilli and Olivia are napping, and Declan and I are reading.  He occasionally takes a break to push the big stuffed toy frog around in the play shopping cart.

It's Friday, and I'm thinking about all the things I'd  like to accomplish this weekend.  There's too much, and I won't be able to do it all in between the things we already have planned.  But that's okay.  Life is always like that.  I admit that's where my frustrations often lie, because there's barely time to get the things done that need doing.  Very very little time left for the want-to-dos.  I have to work on making time for the wants, because the wants are important too.

Lyrics to a piece I wrote driving back to Ellensburg during college have been running through my head since early this morning.  The music, the music.  Always a' want-to-do'.  An urgency.   A need I have a hard time fulfilling.  Maybe tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow.

Sunshine!!!  It's beautiful, and happy, and inviting us outdoors to play!

Hand Over Heart

I'm sometimes surprised by my emotions. This morning, I suddenly found myself crying, as Lilli looked up at me from her high chair, and with a mushy and rather large piece of banana half-hanging from her mouth, smiled and excitedly exclaimed, "Mamaaaaaa!", then blew me a kiss.

Is it surprising that such proclamations would fill my happiness-cup to the brim?  No. What continues to surprise me in these moments, is the rush of sadness that wraps itself around the elation.  In the span of 15 seconds or so, the following thoughts went through my  mind:

That was so lovely
Mama, yep I'm a Mama
Whoa, I'm a Mom!!!!
My daughter has a really beautiful smile
She is so innocent--there's so much to teach and learn.
I want to protect her from as much as I possibly can
She will be a grown woman some day--please universe, please let her make it to a ripe old age.
My heart would break into an infinite number of pieces if anything should happen to her.
There are so many things I wish I had control over, but terrifyingly, there is very little I control.
Is my coffee ready?  Did I remember the sweetener?
Maybe today will be the day I drink the whole cup while it's still hot.
How does one's heart survive parenthood?
I've never known love like this before.

Lilli then pulled the last bit of banana out of her mouth, picked up a piece of toast, mashed them into her hair, giggled, and said, "funny!".

A Matter of Life and Death

Because it hasn't been far from my mind lately:

"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."
--Isaac Asimov