Last night, as I was rocking Stella after her goodnight story, I was suddenly struck by an intense wave of comfort stemming from my not-so-revolutionary realization that many of the mamas and papas I know right now were reading to or rocking their babes at the same moment. That wave multiplied exponentially when I thought about all the mamas and papas I don’t know who were also reading and rocking at the same moment.
What a powerful force, don’t you think? So many people giving and receiving love. Wow.
I’m starting to view the hour between seven and eight in the evening as sacred. The sarcastic and fried part of me sees this because I find myself anticipating life without a toddler on my hip as you-betch’ya-cookies-sista sacred. The reflective and thoughtful part of me sees this because it’s a time when we catch our breath collectively and come together after good and bad days, reminding one another of why we do what we do – to love each other as fiercely and clearly as we can.
My family once hosted a Russian man through our church. At our farewell gathering with all the visitors and all the host families, the man we hosted told the translator that despite the fact that we barely understood a word we said to one another, we were bonded for life as fellow human beings. He then said – in so many Russian words – “We need to send all the politicians and leaders to a faraway island and then we can get along simply – as fellow human beings.”
I know. I know. It’s much more complicated than that.
What a powerful force, don’t you think? So many people giving and receiving love. Wow.
I’m starting to view the hour between seven and eight in the evening as sacred. The sarcastic and fried part of me sees this because I find myself anticipating life without a toddler on my hip as you-betch’ya-cookies-sista sacred. The reflective and thoughtful part of me sees this because it’s a time when we catch our breath collectively and come together after good and bad days, reminding one another of why we do what we do – to love each other as fiercely and clearly as we can.
My family once hosted a Russian man through our church. At our farewell gathering with all the visitors and all the host families, the man we hosted told the translator that despite the fact that we barely understood a word we said to one another, we were bonded for life as fellow human beings. He then said – in so many Russian words – “We need to send all the politicians and leaders to a faraway island and then we can get along simply – as fellow human beings.”
I know. I know. It’s much more complicated than that.
But it rings with some truth, doesn’t it? I think of this experience and this man’s words when I think of these shared moments of love and comfort. Life is complex and messy and challenging. Yes. But we are at the center of all our messes and our joys; if we harnessed the love that emanates from this sacred hour- this goodnight energy - I imagine the world would, in fact, be a different place.
And for the record, I will gladly wear a badge of naivete on this one. At this point I'll take naive over bitter any day.
Every night, as I lay Stella in her crib, I whisper in her ear “You are loved and cherished.” And that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? To make sure, at the end of every day, our babes feel loved and cherished. But it's not just about her. This is one of those magical parenting moments where I receive just as much (if not more) as I give. There’s something incredibly healing about rocking my child to sleep or reading a goodnight story as a family. When I eavesdrop on Stella and the Papa as they chat and giggle their way to bath (and I swoon with love for both) and then watch Stella excitedly barge into the bathroom stark naked (and I swoon in awe of her confidence and bravado), the challenges of the day fade. If, for whatever reason, life between 6am and 7pm went pear-shaped, things simply feel better once 7pm hits. Does it feel so good because I know I’m “off duty” soon? Perhaps. It could also feel good because we are participating in something bigger than our little family, sacred moments of gentleness and love experienced across this magnificent planet. Ultimately, I think it feels good because despite the challenges of any given day, snuggling my loved ones in a quiet dark space reminds me of what we are to one another – beloved.
Every night, as I lay Stella in her crib, I whisper in her ear “You are loved and cherished.” And that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? To make sure, at the end of every day, our babes feel loved and cherished. But it's not just about her. This is one of those magical parenting moments where I receive just as much (if not more) as I give. There’s something incredibly healing about rocking my child to sleep or reading a goodnight story as a family. When I eavesdrop on Stella and the Papa as they chat and giggle their way to bath (and I swoon with love for both) and then watch Stella excitedly barge into the bathroom stark naked (and I swoon in awe of her confidence and bravado), the challenges of the day fade. If, for whatever reason, life between 6am and 7pm went pear-shaped, things simply feel better once 7pm hits. Does it feel so good because I know I’m “off duty” soon? Perhaps. It could also feel good because we are participating in something bigger than our little family, sacred moments of gentleness and love experienced across this magnificent planet. Ultimately, I think it feels good because despite the challenges of any given day, snuggling my loved ones in a quiet dark space reminds me of what we are to one another – beloved.
1 comment:
When one has a life in the theater, this time becomes one of concentration and preperation. All for the living art of telling a story at eight. When and where our audience hopefully is wide awake with the telling. . .
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