as i mentioned earlier, we have been trying to teach satine to sleep better. which, this week anyway, has meant waking up several times during the night -- sometimes for lengthy periods. So when we finally get some much needed zzzz's, the last thing you really want to hear is an alarm clock. even when it comes in the form of your baby's cry for attention.
it was maybe 6:30, and i was rattled out of my much needed slumber by satine's cry. i grumbled, nahchey moaned, and i rolled over to face her, grimacing from sleep deprivation. but when i opened my eyes, there was this bright, smiling face peering at me from behind the bars of her crib. she did not know i was tired. she did not know i was irritable. all she knew was it was a brand new day. the room is light (must be time to get up) and ooh! when i rattle this bar it makes a noise! and there's mommy and daddy across the room, laying in bed -- oh, and look, now mommy is looking at me. how fun!
in that moment of seeing her bright face, clarity broke through my sleep-deprivation like a splash of cold water. It didn't matter. My sleep deprivation didn't matter. My ability to "do" the things i needed to do that day with a clear head didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that i drop into the moment.
and live there. fully... however briefly, and enjoy.
i reveled in her face, that small moment now burned into my memory-- her face, her movements, her laughter.
this is the way the gift of children works on me: that precious face an ease to my grumbling spirit; a reminder to stay present, open, aware, and appreciative. life is nothing but a series of small moments. if we don't stop to truly enjoy them -- notice them -- let ourselves be affected by them -- then what's the point?
i need constant reminders. the pressure to do, do, do, to go, go, go, is a constant. every time i slow down and clear my calendar or "To Do" list, i seem to have filled it up again, unwittingly, and before i know it i have missed hundreds of moments. thousands, maybe. (my poor husband- i'm sure i've missed countless of his moments since satine has been born.) time has taught me that, for me, it is only in being still, in dropping into the moment, that i am able to feel more vibrantly alive... to see that the life i am living is here. it is now. there is no moment beyond satine waking me up in my sleep deprived stupor, her eagerness rattling the crib with a 'get me out of here' cry. that's it. that's my life.
the choice is how to respond to it. do i grope and grumble as i force myself out of bed? or do i allow the perfection of that smiling (or crying) face to wash over me, unfold my heart, and know the blessing of being alive? this time at least, satine's smile had taught me all i need to know.