Over the past month my lungs have been disgruntled. And it’s become an interesting practice in itself to observe that when I’m feeling stressed, overwhelmed, rushed or have externalised my awareness to the point of complete disconnection to my body I get wheezy.
I think the wheeze also has something to do with being a wee bit cut off my heart. From what I am really feeling. For when we really check into our hearts we are met with the truths of our lives: our longings, what we miss and what we ache for. But to acknowledge this we have got to go a little slower, we have got to connect to our breath and to bring our awareness inside our bodies.
And for some of us, that’s just freakin’ hard and maybe even a little bit scary.
But last night sitting with my daughter as she fell asleep, I felt my heart in a way I haven’t for a while.
Oh hello heart. I hadn’t even realised we had been estranged from one another for such a while…
This is my latest post…
Motherhood: a practice for 365 days of the year
Being a mother I have been forced to made aware of parts of myself that years of therapy and workshops and meditation and yoga and so on have kept hidden.
More then any other practice I have ever encountered, motherhood has pushed me to my edge. Like a great teacher it has stripped me of my previous identity and then proceeded to reshape me consistently, persistently, 365 days of the year. It has made me more aware of how I check out and a whole host of other things that hours of therapy never helped me see.
And because the stakes are high: i.e. I love my daughter and want to be the best mother I can be, I am doing my damnest to keep checking in. Because the thing is Evie needs me less when she has me more.
Just like last night….
24 hours ago my daughter was resisting sleep which went on for about 90minutes. Which is always a fun way to spend an evening! After a pause I softened looking at my daughter and really seeing her. So I go and sit beside her cot, my hand through the railings holding hers. And she lies down and turns her head to look at me and then raises her head and we nuzzle noses, both of us smiling afterwards.
And as I look at my daughter I feel my heart, the aliveness of it, the pulse of it and the life in it and my chest expands and in that moment my wheezing stops.
No inhaler needed.
As I sat there last night, my daughter gave me this sweet smile as if to say there mama this is all I wanted, is it so bad after all? And tears fall down my face.
Not bad darling, just hard. Hard to stop and be and sit and feel and almost impossible to surrender to something or rather someone that isn’t even asking for surrender, only to be met and to be seen.
I look at my daughter’s face which looks soft and tired. That wired energy has gone now, something had released in her, relieved perhaps that she doesn’t have to climb out of her cot another time to come and say hey mama, I need something a bit more then just now go to sleep Eve.
And then someone turns the light off in the stairway so that though I cannot see my daughter’s eyes; I can feel her and see a soft haze of her as she sinks into sleep.
Life: our greatest teacher
Buddhists say make every moment of you’re life a practice. But to do this we need the right motivation, so that no matter the external situation our commitment to our practice remains consistent. But what is our inspiration? There are many practices out there designed to cultivate inspiration and motivation. Truth is I struggle with a lot of them and so the habits that I am seeking to address (disconnection/living life in the future) continue like a sneaky teenager that realise really, they can do whatever they like, cos this ol’mama ain’t turfing them out anytime soon. With my daughter there is something essential that I experience. It has to do with love. A 5* motivational tool indeed!
Because I want so much to be a practitioner that is utterly devoted and able to contribute great things, but the reality is that I find it freakin’ hard to integrate my practice into daily life: unless my daily life becomes my practice and great things become small things.
So I better wake up and take ‘em, in case I get old and forget. Life be precious those Buddhists say, of that I cannot disagree.
Happy Tuesday all,
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So I had a google for songs about the heart and other then Rod Stewart who happens to be my one of my favourite singers of all time, but his songs are all about lovers and well I wanted something a little different and then found this song and something in it has the cockles of my heart all stirred up, so I’m sharing in case you like it too!