You know you need to start listening to advice that keeps coming your way when even the mortgage broker is telling you to slow down. Oh slowing down... I know I need to.. I know I want to, it's just the consistency of it that I struggle with.
The Time Is Now I am in Norway with my mother and daughter Eve. I normally post on Sunday mornings but this Sunday we found out my 90 year old grand-father had been taken to hospital in Norway where he had been on holiday with his wife. And so the morning was spent speaking to doctors and organising plane tickets and hotels and passports being taxied to Heathrow (We were in the country when we found out - not realising they would be needed our passports were in London). And then the three of us got in the car and I had the vague idea I'd be able to post something later. But there has been no later.
Slow Down, Lie Down This afternoon I lay on the bed with my daughter lying in my arms. She's exhausted after two plane rides yesterday, delays, lost passports, a midnight arrival and only a brief nap in the morning on the way to the local pool with Ben. A father daughter trip that fills them both with delight. After waking from her afternoon nap she immediately rolled over and drifted off again nestled in my arms. I lay whilst she slept, my chin resting on the top of her head. My right arm sprawled on the bed beside her curled sleeping frame. I lie there wanting to get up and use this previous time to do. To write, to email (I am meant to be getting married on Friday) to make calls. But I don't. I lie there not wanting to wake her.
Instead I bring my attention to my body, feeling the sensations in my feet and legs as Ben is always encouraging me to do. My thoughts drift to doing and I bring my attention to being with my child. I write out my blog in my head, plan trips I want to take with my family and friends. And every now and again I contemplate slowing down. Feeling the pulse of my life wheezing for a bit of time out.
You Can Never Say It Enough This evening Eve and I walked up the hill to visit my grand- father. He is very weak at the moment and I don 't want to write about his condition as that's private to him but I think it's alright if I write that being here I am reminded of a few things...
I am reminded how hard it can be to say to those we love: I f*****g love you and I hold back, in case that love is too much. In case it scares you. Although I said this of my grand-father tonight - omitting the word needing asterisks.
I am reminded of the follies we make in allowing our hurts to rule our hearts.
And I am reminded that when someone feels loved nothing is impossible.
I am reminded how ill-educated we are to deal with the realities of life. Death it happens to us all and yet how scared we are of it. Oh why do we not acknowledge it more? For if we did I imagine we would live with far more graciousness and gratitude. Courage too. For we may deny our own deaths but it is in denying others theirs that we only hurt them more.
Manners - Time For Something More Refreshing? A teacher dear to my heart Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche said recently that us British we are so polite. It wasn't a compliment.
The Home Of A Heroine On arriving at the hotel last night my eyes swam to a magazine in the hotel lobby. My heart swelled. The magazine was called Arundal - the name of Princess Elsa & Anna's home in the Disney film 'Frozen.'
The next morning I checked with the receptionist to make sure it's the same place as the film Eve adores. Yes, she tells me, though the pronunciation is way off.
I walk over to my daughter eating breakfast beside her beloved 'DoDo,' my mother. I bring the magazine to the table - bubba guess where we are? Her eyes open in curiosity. We're in Arundal. The home of Princess Elsa. Her eyes shine and a beam of a smile soars across her face.
To be in the place of ones hero. There are no words and I see the impact that this has on my daughters body. She softens and waits - what magic this world can bring.
The Bliss Of Trolls The rest of the day we discover troll caves whilst walking to the hospital and even spy four big nosed dudes in the window of a shop. This feels extraordinarily important. It doesn't matter that the trolls aren't 'real.' They are there. Something imaginary has been given form.
I watch as Eve gets out of her buggy captivated by the sight of them. Something is happening for her, though I may not fully comprehend it.
The End Is Near And that's it. Somehow this world brings to us adventures we cannot dream of in situations that remind us: we are not in control.
Accepting I'm not in control.
I'm going to need some help with those ones.