Photo by Lyn
Ahhh, the abundance: the hot bath water, the perfect warmth transitioning me from the comfort of my bed, into my waking moments.
The perfect little wake up song "In the Leafy Treetops" that my mom used to sing to me, that I felt inspired to sing to my girls this morning as I woke them up, caressing their soft cheeks, telling them how much they look like gorgeous little elves stirring in their beds; the magic that I couldn't ignore as I took a moment to watch them awaken; sleepy eyes opening ever so slowly, tiny eyebrows tensing, then relaxing, little limbs stretching and shaking out sleep, and tiny smiles appearing, struggling between the impulse to push me away, or keep me near.
The way the eggs cooked, and didn't burn, even though I left them unattended for far too long while doing the laundry. The ease of making the orange juice, because I'd let the can defrost over night. The ease of making lunches because the Tupperware was clean!
The perfect amount of time to get my older daughter to school, and on time today! The perfect way I misspoke and made her laugh telling her to walk by the chug-link fence. The perfect way I left her smiling at her classroom door.
The perfect way I braided my younger daughter's hair, and fastened the braids in red elastics, the look of excitement on her face that her hair was long enough for braids, (and the many haircutting mishaps with child-size scissors that she and her little friend have had to experience to make her extra appreciative!)
The perfect way she told me that she didn't want to go to school, after we had dropped of her sister, and how perfectly receptive I was, and she was to me pointing out that we weren't at school, that we weren't even on our way to school, even if her mind was already there, standing anxious at the door. The perfect joy I felt when I realized she was listening, and not plugging her ears!
How she participated to keep us in the present moment, by helping point out the beautiful fall trees, the one that was half green and half rainbow, the bright yellow ones, lit miraculously from within under today's grey sky. The way she held on to me at the preschool door and listened to me repeat to her that she was learning to be brave, and that it was okay for her to feel what she was feeling. How she smiled when I told her she was just like a bird stepping out of its nest, learning to fly.
How beautifully I could see her working through her fear to say goodbye. The perfect way she looked at me and waved, through her tears.
The way I left knowing she would be fine, and how thankful I felt for those moments when she still wanted me to hold her, when she really needed me--knowing that when I pick her up this afternoon, she will have shifted into her more grown up and independent self.
Realizing peacefully, that she and I are no different, experiencing the morning a little tentatively; not wholly comfortable with the necessary habit, of re-emerging every single morning, from the safety and warmth of our sleepy womb--no wonder we are a little wobbly on our legs.
The perfect tool and gloves I had to replant the flowers in my window box, and the harmonious pattern that emerged just by rearranging a few of the flowers, putting the lovely orange ones, Orange Symphony, front and center, that I had found for autumn planting, when I was sure my choices would be limited to pansies and ornamental cabbage.
The way the tree outside my window is gently dropping its leaves, raining splashes of yellow, with such ease and such grace.
The perfect way I was able to meditate on abundance, and to feel my heart move into a lighter and more hopeful way of being today, and how so much abundance instantly appeared everywhere; how I began to feel it so deep and peacefully within, that I was inspired to write about it.
How perfectly wonderful to feel the excitement of what other sweet surprises are in store this beautiful October day.