A Break in the Clouds



In the past 24 hours, Seattle has been pelted with an insane amount of rain, complete with incredible thunder and lightening displays. It seems like Fall has been ushered in, in a very wet, dreary way, but then, just as soon as the storm started, the sun came out. I was walking to my car and realized that it was sunny, warm, and I probably shouldn’t have dressed Potamus in a sweater since it was approaching 70 degrees. What a drastic, dramatic, and unexpected shift in the weather.

And it was just like that with my mood. Two days of just feeling down, depressed, frustrated with my parenting and then Voila (which my mom pronounces wahv lah, haha) my attitude changed. And I’m feeling misty eyed just thinking about it. The first perceptible shift was while trolling around on Facebook and seeing this story posted by the yoga studio that I attend. This gist is: we shout in anger because when we’re upset our hearts feel very far away from the person we’re upset at. Whoa, that was such a beautiful image and I couldn’t help but think about how it has been troubling me and Potamus and Boof in the past few days. My heart certainly has felt distant and shouting has ensued.

The second shift happened while nursing Potamus to sleep, while I was reading Huffington Post on my phone. This article called “A Letter To My Son’s Best Friend” almost made me cry, as I was experiencing, momentarily, how fast Potamus is growing up. The author, writing to her son’s stuffed bunny, says:

He’s going to outgrow you. And me too, in some ways. No, I’m actually not fine with that. Yes, thank you… I would like a tissue, please

There are moments where I am exhausted by the constant neediness. The way in which I am being tugged on and pulled at and cannot satisfy his need to be near me. There are the hard times where I’m still 100% parent, even when Boof is here, because he will always choose me over daddy (unless I’m out of the room or out of the house). It’s exhausting. And it’s temporary. But when I’m totally, completely, and utterly exhausted, it’s hard to be his whole world and give just a little more.

It reminds me of the deep pranayama breathing practice we do to start the Bikram practice, where the instructor says “breathe in, a little more, another sip of air, just when you think you can’t, breathe in a little more. It might feel uncomfortable, or make you feel dizzy, but one more sip.” And then repeats that on the exhale. Because I can always get just a little more air in, and I can always exhale just a little more. 

So, just for today, I’m going to give a little more, love a little more, breathe in the sweaty sleeping toddler neediness a little more, because it is going fast.

What things have you encountered that change your perspective just a little bit?