I’ve stared at that question without really knowing the answer – yet. “Who were you before you started thinking about who you are now?” I wrote that and only that in one of my journal entries not too long ago. I took this as a sign from the Universe as a reminder to me that, yes I am a mother, incredibly honored to be one, but I am also so many other things that have equal gravity in my life. He had this smile that was just short of turning into laughter that seemed to say, “not quite what you were expecting huh?” Then, in the stage of my mind, sure enough, an elderly man with a bald head, dressed in orange Buddhist robes, amusedly took center stage. Instead, as soon as I closed my eyes, all the noise of the room faded away and what took its place was the sound of a Buddhist monk chanting, clearly singing prayers, though I couldn’t understand them. I did a guided meditation to meet my spirit guide once and, going in, I fully expected The Madonna with the baby Jesus in her arms, or at least, someone like her, you know, motherly, to show up. I can just picture Oprah and Eckhart Tolle smiling and nodding at me in approval. I tried to explain this sentiment to one of my brothers awhile ago and he promptly told me that I am like this because I’m neurotic, which means to say, I’m perfectly normal and weird at the same time. Once the house settles and everyone’s asleep, well almost everyone, the only thing creeping around in the dark at our house at night is me, checking in on them several times a night, watching them sleep, and thinking to myself, I really have to try harder at loving them today. I know I hugged them, kissed them at random times, praised them, told them I loved them, but did they really feel it? “You know I love you so much, right?” I repeat that, always, to each child before bed. My mind is whirring with thoughts, typically questioning the meaning of life and also asking myself if I’ve shown the kids enough love today. Without even lifting them will roll over and say, “Go to bed already.” Pffft. Matthew, with his eye mask over his eyes, It was lovely and beautiful and totally unexpected, which made it that much more endearing. How does the sun rising always catch me off-guard like that? Somehow, I am completely unsuspecting that the sun does indeed rise every morning, like that time Matthew and I were walking down the subway steps of NYC and right before we hit the turnstiles, he did an exaggerated yawn, probably a nervous reaction, pulled me close and we shared our first kiss. Mornings like this, when I’ve been up either reading or writing, every now and then looking out our window, I am always surprised when suddenly it’s light out. Haaa! What this really translates to is that I had a whole list of things I wanted to get done today and maybe only a handful of those boxes will get checked off. And I don’t even drink coffee, which means that I run on pure, unadulterated zest for life.
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