Happenings on Winter Break…

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One of the best things about my job as a high school teacher is that when Anjali has a snow day at her preschool, I do too. And when she has winter break, so do I. Hallelujah!

I had a lot of plans last weekend, facing an entire week ahead of time in the mornings to myself (with Anji at art camp). Time to catch up on work, have coffee with friends, saunter along on the main street, and do yoga and read poetry. On Monday morning, things were off to a good start. I did some work and went to yoga class after dropping off Anji. And then I went to pick up Anji. As soon as I saw her, I knew something was off. She was sitting in a daze, and looking…well.. a bit ashen. We came home and she threw up. One of many throw ups. Followed then were two days of my being dedicated mom to sick child. Lots of lap time, reading books (or same books over and over again) and cuddling with my little one. Comforting tears, cleaning up messes, and giving hugs.

Once I let my agendas drop, it was nice to pause and slow down. Anji is usually so much on the move all the time – that it was nice to snuggle with her as much as I did. We listened to sounds – to snow trucks clear the drive ways, the sound of water dripping after a shower, and to sounds of waves on our phone. Time paused. We saw Aamir Khan in ‘Taare Zameen Par’ painting with eight year old boy Ishaan. We made cookies (though of course Anji didn’t want any) and we slept a lot. Or she slept and while she did, I sat next to her and graded papers. And every now and then, looking at her sleeping face resting in complete surrender and peace, I felt a welling of tenderness. A reminder of the fleetingness of time.

So, time comes a full circle – sometimes in a short time. On this friday morning, I have dropped off Anji at her art camp, happy and herself again. She managed to eat some breakfast (miracle!) and with a peppy smile, waved a big good bye to me from the window as I drove off. What a sweet start to the morning.

There are some things we could never plan for, that turn out to be the sweetest of all things – moments that we cherish, love that fills our hearts and a softness that carries through our smile to others. May yours be a day with some or all of these things.

With Love, S.

Night lights…

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Last night was my first night with Abhi traveling. I stayed up too late after Anjali went to bed, reading a novel (set in Victorian times with some amount of gothic suspense, which is one of my favorite kinds…). By the time I hit the bed, I was imagining sounds of spooky houses and gardens around me. It took me a few minutes to align my senses with Anji’s breathing, sleeping on the mattress next to our bed. Then everything was fine.

Not to say the night was uneventful. right around 1.00am, Anjali woke up crying. I comforted her, put her in bed next to me, and realized after checking the time, that Abhi had probably just landed in Frankfurt, en route to Jeddah in Saudi Arabia. She was probably in sync with him, as they always are, sharing a special language of their own, father and daughter, and missing him.

My own dad had called me up Friday evening at around 4.30, which was around 3.00 am his time. My phone which has gone through many trials and tribulations ( as some of my friends may know from first hand details) now works for the most part, except the phone doesn’t ring when someone calls. Or rather it probably rings, but not in any frequency I can hear. So unless you are looking at the iPhone and see a face coming by, you won’t actually know someone is calling until you see the missed call later. But at that instant,at 4.30pm, in my car after my chiropractor appointment, with Anji behind in the car seat, just before I was about to pull out of the parking, I happened to check my phone and saw appa’s face. It felt so good!

My dad has a strange and comforting way of being there for me, more so when Abhi is traveling. It’s as if his sixth sense kicks in. It’s happened in the past when we went through some pretty lousy medical stuff while Abhi was traveling. He would call at the right time, and he was able to be present no matter what my emotions at the moment. On this Friday evening, my heart was gladdened hearing Appa’s voice. I could see Anjali’s smiling face in the rear view mirror, her sparkly eyes lighting up listening to me talk. as always, perfectly in sync.

So tonight, now that the novel is finished, and Anji is sleeping, the house feels quiet. A lingering sense of peace. Abhi has landed in Jeddah, and resting his weary body after traveling for over 24 hours. We got to see him for a few minutes on video, and as always he looked so great, even after traveling for so long. I don’t know how my amazing hubby manages that! :) I have let the dishes pile up, but I’m okay letting my obsessive compulsive cleaner off the hook tonight. Anji has cleaned up her toys before going to bed, and I have our Christmas lights on in the living room ( yeah already!) so our living room has a cozy glow. Time has slowed down tonight. Now it is time to hit the bed…

Namaste and peace to you.

Autumn Grace…

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Another beautiful fall day. Everything looks so golden these days. The light, the trees, the leaves scattered everywhere. Especially in early afternoon light, as we drive down windy roads on our way home from work and preschool. I can’t get over how beautiful this time of the year is. An entire hill shining golden brown. Or rows and rows of trees that are either yellow, orange or red. Pumpkins and orange flowers lining up houses. The contrast of the blue sky against all of this golden orangeness.

And how temperamental, how fleeting. One minute sunshine, next minute clouds. One minute the gorgeousness of the sun setting low in the sky, the next minute darkness. Perhaps that is what makes the Fall so special.

It also feels like I’m seeing this with new eyes. I don’t remembering witnessing this same beauty the last couple of years. My life has so much revolved around Anjali – my point of focus and undivided attention. And now as she is growing and so am I, it feels good to relax my attention a bit – let it broaden and take in my surroundings, the people around me and take some moments to receive this grace.

It isn’t often in life when we feel graced. Graced by presence, by friendship – inner or outer, by abundance – of good food and good health. It isn’t always that we feel fortunate, that we do the things we love and there is so much right in our lives. There are so many struggles in life, so many unknowns, such little in our control – that it can be hard to remember the graceful moments – moments which flow, which touch us, in which we love and are loved. When we are in a place of grace – those small unbidden moments – driving down the road and watching birds take flight, or wind rustling the trees outside the window or locks of hair falling over our sleeping child’s serene face or stepping outside the car, rushing to catch up to work, and stopping for just a moment to feel the contrast of fresh cool air touching the face, the breeze flowing through the hair. These small moments of grace uplift our lives, they bring delight and pause. They touch our hearts so that the ordinariness of our lives is taken to the next level : to sacredness.

Everything becomes sacred – because it is the now. And it does not last. It takes on this preciousness, whose worth only time can unfold. And it is only by relaxed attention, by leaning back instead of forward, by receiving this moment and appreciating this pause – that we can live in this space of sacredness.

So if you make your way to this sacred moment. Stay. Just for another moment.

Peace to you, S.

Turning 3…

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My little girl just turned 3 this past week. Its been three mom years for me. It is so mind-boggling to me! Just now, it seemed like she was born, nursing in my arms, sleeping for hours, utterly vulnerable and dependent on me; on us, as parents. And already it has been three years. And she is a sheer life force of energy moving dancing jumping always ready. As Suzuki Roshi called it, an alert readiness. A readiness for life. When she is upset, she is passionately upset. and when joyful, joyful with her full body and mind. My passionate wild darling. Sometimes too much like her mother. (“and the lily, how passionately she needs some wild darling!”, Rumi, Maybe thats what I asked for.) Perhaps a little temperance maybe in order. But that’s not something I have ever learned properly. Dad will have to chip in on that one.

My sleeping baby is my favorite moment of the day. She holds my hand, even now, into her fourth year, before dozing off, into dreamland. sometimes she has some last few words, some mumbles before sleep arrives fully. She is always so warm. and she curls up like a cat, with her other hand rubbing her belly. Sometimes she sings, until that very last moment of sleep. itsy bitsy spider (her most favorite song!) mostly, sometimes twinkle twinkle. Perhaps there is a reason these songs are so popular among the little ones. The melody that one can repeat over and over again. It doesn’t end. But then it does. Everything ends, just as the baby years end and the toddler years arrive, and then the preschooler years.

Right now, thats where my baby is at. So incredibly brave, learning so many new things, giving herself fully to each new day and what it holds. It is amazing to me how much she is open to, how present. More and more I am aware of how many complaints I have. and I don’t do half as much as my little one does each day. So I learn slowly to drop them.

So here it is, to our little ones, our little buddhas. May we cherish the moments, of their touch, their tiny hands holding ours, their small feet flexing, the pouring of water in the tub from one cup to another, the wearing of tiny shoes themselves, and braving it into the worlds with their tiny lunch bags. Thats my diva, my angel, my rock star. Happy birthday my sweetheart!