Wake Up!

by

I yawned as my friend said something, zoned out, tuned back in, laughed, drank some more tea, tried not to watch the clock.

Watched the clock anyway.

It’s challenging being social on a Monday evening.

I can do it.

I have done it.

I just turn into a pumpkin really fast.

I have my little routine, the things I do after work, the work that resumed today in full, a two little boys hand full, my goodness they are huge, it’s not like I haven’t seen them in months, just a few days, and they are huge, and energetic, and yup boys.

No break for me, not a nap that over lapped or a down moment.

Although there were sweet quiet moments.

Revel in this, I thought to myself, as the warm sun beamed down on me, one of the boys asleep in the stroller, the other making a big deal about figuring out how to zip up his sweatshirt.

It was just a moment of quiet, of not being engaged.

Yes, being present, that is what I am paid for when it really comes down to the nuts and bolts of it (although really, I feel I am paid because I have a gigantic capacity of love for children, which amazes me again and again, where does it come from and how deep is it?  Perhaps I won’t ever get to know the answers to those questions, better for me too, I suspect) my job is to watch and be alert and present.

To the ever-present dangers of little boys.

One little boy who is one, who I want to say is still a baby, but he is no baby, he is a boy and boy howdy is he all about letting me know his opinions about what he wants and when.

The other is nearly two and so smart and dear and precocious, and when he’s occupied with something, sand box shovel, or zipper, he can get really occupied.

So, I let him.

I just stood in the middle of the sidewalk and let the sun fall on me warmly, so much nicer than yesterday’s cold chilling fog I was riding around in for hours, listened to the birds wax in the trees, the quiet of the street with no cars, the smell of jasmine blooming in the planters in front of a house.

I looked at the way the tall palm tree on Beulah street feathered out its fronds against the sky and sighed deeply.

Stop sometimes and just be present.

It was a great day to get reunited with the boys, the day was sunny, warm, and the park was full, but not too full, no waiting in line for the swings, no struggles over sand box territory or shoving to go down the slides.

When my alarm woke me up this morning I made a snap decision to take a shower, which I would normally do  in the evening on a Monday (yeah, that’s right, I have a schedule for showering.  Shut up.  I just notice that some days work better than others timing wise, that’s all) and I got up and threw myself underneath the hot water, after raking the brush through my helmet head hair.

I was a bit disgruntled, looking back I could almost say I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, grumpy for no reasons.

I noticed it when I went to make my bed up and do my morning readings and such.

I paused and ask for some direction and said, help me show up today and just enjoy what is happening today, not worry about tomorrow, or wish I had done something differently yesterday, just show up for today and enjoy it.

Something, somewhere, God, call it what you will, I have my own secret code word for it, God, heard me, and I had a beautiful, balanced, day, being present and showing up for it.

In fact, it wasn’t until I was writing this blog that I recalled how grumpy I had awoken.

Nice, when that happens.

Nice when I am heard and I go out into the world to try to do my best to show up.

Nice.

Yeah, it’s a bit shabby as far as an adjective goes, but sometimes simple, is sweet, and it was a nice day.

It didn’t blow the socks of me or want me to radically change anything in my life, which is actually a radical thing for me, not wanting to change something RIGHT NOW, because I am uncomfortable.

Oh shit.

Ha.

I just realized that I walked through a bunch of discomfort and I came out the other side, mainly because I just showed up.

It is a constant awakening, I realize.

Always this coming to.

Nothing is wrong.

Nothing ever is.

It’s how I show up for it and what I do when I get there and not letting the getting there rule my brain, but to take basic, simple, tiny, really, god-awful slow steps, to grow.

And looky there, I grew some this past week.

I also had an epiphany, helped by the counsel of said friend I was having tea with this evening before heading home.

I am going to ask that my friend who is selling me his scooter keep the title to it until I pay it off.

Thereby having a secured loan.

He had offered to hand over the title already and the scooter and I had asked that he not until I have every thing all lined up, all my little ducks in a row, the safety course, the helmet, the insurance, my licence, that I be entirely above-board with it.

And here, is another place to practice that growth and honesty.

I don’t want to even think about screwing over my friend in regards to continuing to pay him for the scooter.  I can secure the loan by asking him to hold onto the title until it is all paid off.

And that is what I will do.

It’s getting easier, this whole living principled thing, it really is.

Just have to wake up to it and even when I do with my cranky pants on tight and high, I can start right over, even if it’s just minutes since the alarm went off.

I can always choose to be present.

Awake.

Alive.

How lovely.

How.

Ahem.

Nice.

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