This moment now

Woven through last week's New Year 2013 posts, a shared sentiment emerged among my momma blogger friends. In our own words we shared hope that the new year will bring opportunity for implementing, exercising, and appreciating greater peace and presence in the moments that make up every day. I sense it is an ideal we seek in order to create calm and to soothe our own anxieties, that if we can learn to be present we can somehow protect ourselves from the relative pain and suffering inherent to our role as mothers.

The built-in community that exists in this online space is part of what draws me to write here: validation and comfort knowing that my struggles are not mine alone. My experience is extraordinary to me because it is mine, but it is otherwise ordinary.

I feel what other mothers feel what I feel.

For me being present centers around conserving my energy. To feel deep stillness, joy, and appreciation in the moments that are perfection in the way I imagine it can be, but also when the opposite is true. That I can have greater clarity and awareness of my own needs. That I can be better tuned-in to this moment in order to meet my boys where they are and JUST BE, without judgement. Even if the moment is brief.

To feel the static of Merritt's wispy baby hair against my cheek or the pinching grip of his tiny fingers in my arms as he holds to me as we fervently dance across the hardwood floors.

To breathe in the sweet vinegar sweat left in Roscoe's damp hair after a good long nap.

To cut through the chaos of the 5 o'clock witching hour to meet eyes with Roscoe, raise my brow and elicit songs of peeling laughter. 

To accept with undivided attention his invitation to watch him move his cars to and fro, even when I feel I don't have time to stop moving forward my own weighty cargo.

Does fear drive my impulse to want to catalog in my mind the warm weight of his body in my arms, the pitch of his 3 year old voice, the cadence of their steps? We give everything to our children and yet there are no guarantees for their health or safety in this world. There are no assurances that when they reach adulthood they will love us, or feel loved by us, in the ways that we hope they will.

On the other hand, pining for the power and capacity to do it all, do it well, and to make the journey look easy-as-pie, all the while managing to avoid shifting into auto pilot, appears like fallout from the "parenting is a skill to be mastered" norm that constricts as it empowers the parenting of our generation.

Either way, I am motivated with intention to move through our daily rhythms with energy reserved only for what matters most. We know this is not forever, let's hold on tight to the good stuff so we can carry it with us into tomorrow. Save the stress, feelings of hurry, and anxiety about what comes next. Save the shame of not having been perfect in the past.

This moment right now is deserving.

This moment right now is enough.