This is it. (a post that I never posted in September)

My boys were driving me crazy this afternoon.  It was a rainy Sunday and they were tired and off the wall all at the same time.  They were loud and goofy and pesty.  I so wanted a quiet and cozy house on this rainy day and it was not happening.  Julien finally passed out.  He had tried to nap at 4:30 and we pushed him through it...which was painful for all.  After he fell asleep I made a cup of tea and Lukas and I went out on the back porch to sit on the swing in the cool fresh air.  Somehow we both needed a little air.  He brought his books from school and read to me.  As we sat on the swing I thought "This is it.  This is my life.  Here I am in my house with my almost 7 year old son listening to the sound of his voice mingled with the creaking of the swing that I used to ride as a child.  This is it.  So be here." 
He cuddled in and I told him a Paco story.  He was worried that it might be scary and he didn't want to hear anything scary in the dark.  I told him about when I was little and would walk home in the dark.  I told him how I would look up at the stars and the moon and talk to them.  Up there it was not dark.  It was beautiful.  It is never dark if you look up.  The moon and the stars will always be there.  I told him a story of how Paco was afraid one night while out in his yard and he looked up and realized that there was so much beauty and brightness up there in the sky. 

After our story we were chilly and went back inside.  My head felt clearer and somehow I remembered that this is it....when the boys are wild and crazy, this is it.  This is the work.  This is where the learning happens.  This is the opportunity to meet my edge and be curious.  This is it.  It doesn't happen tomorrow or when I have a quiet second or when I take space.  This is what the training was for.  This is what all the space that I took in my twenties was for.  This is what the reflective moments in the woods were for.  This is it.  To stand in my house with kids fighting and exhausted and me trying to make dinner and to hold my seat.  Or maybe I don't hold my seat...but I go outside.  I get some air.  My boy comes with me and in the quiet and darkness I remember.  Sometimes when things feel dark and scary....we just have to remember to look up.