Meditation and Regular Life again and again
Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,
I’ve written to you a lot over the last few years about relevance, being authentic, about how each of you is your already your own little person and how that makes mommy and I feel like we’re doing something right.
Kate, I’ve especially written to you about the joy we find in watching you navigate the world on your own terms. You aren’t afraid to chase what you want, say no to what you don’t, and be yourself – regardless of the setting or moment.
Earlier this week Mommy took you two little ones for a “well visit” at the Doctor’s office. While you waited for him to come in for your checkup, you decided to “meditate” for a moment Kate. You didn’t ask about it or seek any attention – you simply closed your eyes and drifted for a moment to wherever Kate “goes” sometimes. Mommy snuck a picture (above).
Kate being Kate, and that being very different from most kids, has become so common around our house and neighborhood that these moments are generally met with a smile and shrug of the shoulders. “That’s Kate,” we say.
And I’m proud of “that Kate”. Just like I’m proud of Max for being the boy he is and Izzy for being everything she is.
A friend asked recently what I’ve been up to lately and I explained as I often do when talking with old friends that life is “regular” these days – in a good way. We repeat the things that make us happy.
Sunday morning was a perfect example of our regular life. I woke up at 5am and met a friend for an 8 mile run. When I got home I made french toast, slowly you all started to wake up to its aroma in our early morning house and drifted down stairs and into the kitchen, we ate together around our kitchen table, then I read several chapters of the Children’s Storybook Bible to you, and then we took a scooter ride down the trail behind our house to the creek – where you waded in the cold stream, shadowed by the trees overhead, beams of sunlight like a thousand spotlights creating glimmers on the surface, and searched for treasures in the water: shells, crawdad claws, and weird stones.
Afterwards you rode your scooters to the playground at the school and played on the swings for a long time. You took flying leaps from the apex, crashing into the soft ground below, dusting yourself off, again and again.
I love you,
Saturday: Rode 30 miles
Sunday: Ran 8 miles
Tuesday: Ran 3 miles tempo