A meditation/devotion/blessing thingy for your day

 

To my tired children,

 

Rest will catch you, somewhere soon. You’ll be able to lie back in the netting of her hammock and let your weight float on air. It will be a miracle of density and physics, meanwhile it’s a weird miracle all its own that your body recognizes fatigue to signal you toward sleep. Hold on. Breathe for a moment, sip some water, make another cup of coffee. I won’t tell anyone.

***

To my babies who feel stuck,

You’ll be freed from this stall, though it feels now that confinement is your permanent lot. You won’t be in this state forever; absolutely something will change course. Jobs and relationship status and attitude and investment and money situations change all the time. They follow their own individual schedule, and we’ll always have the calendars of others to make things feel more unfair. But you’re on your way. Find one thing today that sets you free, even for a moment. Hold it. Bless it. Invite it back tomorrow. Chances are she’ll show up again.

***

To my friends who can’t keep up,

Your pace is just fine, honey. The deadlines don’t define you, the rat race doesn’t rule you. Priorities will rise to the surface. You’ll skim your ability across the smaller worries underneath, and with finesse you’ll meet the immediate. Your kids won’t judge what you pick and choose, as long as you choose affection and exceptional parental obsession with those tiny tots you are bringing up. Let them bring you up, too. Let their tiny fingers with swollen knuckles pet your head. Drink in their tiny voices that tell a story and get distracted a hundred times before the finish. Hold their tiny torsos in your lap and feel those tiny hearts beat against their chest. Feel that the tiny are mighty, and let the future strengthen you.

***

To my peeps married to anxiety,

Whoops, when did that wedding take place, right? Nevertheless, it sure feels like we’re locked into a contract now, and further it feels like a bad dream because we never would have picked such a relentless, unloving partner for our better-deserving self. You know what, though, babe? That partner is just kind of here, swirling amongst us, tucking into the corners of our handbag and the creases of our overcoat. And you know what else? You’ve lived with that partner for a thousand years, and you’ve always, always survived. When you can’t get the irrational fears to abate, can’t get the worry loop to desist, try the next step: breathe in and around and through it. Look out, look up from the ever-shrinking corner you’ve painted yourself into. Don't punish yourself for ending up here. Simply hold open your palms, to make it easier to catch Grace.

***

To my loves who are content,

Praise the good Lord in Heaven above that you are at peace, my sweet. Those around you who struggle are jealous of this stillness, but goodness do they need you to keep close. Be gentle as you come near. Set down the tea in front of them, then find a reason to fuss elsewhere in the home. Give them time to approach the mug; though they feel the warmth, they still fear the steam may burn. Use your calm, your joy, your strength, to infuse the space around them with safety. Open the windows to let pressure air itself out. You may want your charge to speak, to cry, to release in a way that proves to you they’ll be OK. They just need you, Love. Be there. Refill the tea, squeeze a shoulder, then go fuss. Come back with socks, tattered copies of Calvin & Hobbes, pizza. Always pizza. Let the cheesy triangles work their magic, let their goo melt into the soul. You are a light without a dimmer setting. Your brightness only builds.

***

Wherever you are is OK. Your mission is to believe it.

Xox