I’m Listening

I’m reading this book with a group of women about spirituality and our bodies. I read a chapter about the senses last week, and while I loved pieces of it, I mostly thought – this chapter is not written for moms or dads or active caregivers of small children. The main message was to slow down and savor. Our meals. Beautiful sights. The feel of something or someone. Etc. Feel the divine through your senses.

Well. I rolled my eyes. Like I have time to stop and savor my meal. Chew each bite slowly? Lol. In a world where mom-mom-mom-mom-mom and constant responsibility for 3 others is my front and center, savoring things is just pushed to the back right now. I don’t have time. I don’t have patience. I don’t have the bandwidth to focus on merely the enjoyment of something, when there’s kids, dishes, laundry, a dog that needs to go out, school events, after school activities, answering emails and messages, attempting to keep up with friends, supporting causes, exercising, querying manuscripts, editing manuscripts, dreaming up manuscripts, catching up with my hubby, tracking our budget, upkeeping the calendar, and also, you know, work. Plan, grade, teach…syllabi, meaningful assignments and readings, interesting activities, grade paper after paper, answer students and colleagues, etc. And that’s a part time job, not even full-time. Reading about chewing food more slowly to savor it seemed laughable. Ain’t nobody got time for that!

But I remembered this talk I had with a guy about yoga and meditation. As a leader in a demanding, corporate job, he said he takes 15 minutes for meditation every day. And when he feels like he doesn’t have time for it, that’s when he actually needs it the most.

So I followed the directions in my book. I already had a little meditation alter, and I found pieces of the senses to “savor” one night after the kids went to bed and it was quiet. Some soft mint leaves from the garden, a smooth rock the girls picked out, a tiny bell my aunt gave me after Abram passed away, some citrus-smelling oil, and a few sentimental items that bring me joy. I lit a candle and played one of my favorite ‘zen’ songs. I closed my eyes, and had 3 small pieces of dark chocolate, which I would normally inhale, but had set out to slowly have one by one.

My experience was lovely. For four minutes, time was slow. I savored. I felt wrapped in song and I soaked in the taste of my favorite treat. The flicker of the candle felt calming with the scent of it and the mint. I admitted, it was grounding. Just like the book said it would be.

The book suggested doing this every day, to take time to experience the divine in our senses.

I knew I wouldn’t do this every day, but acknowledged and appreciated the fact that I could slow down and savor. The word sounded less ridiculous to me, understanding that it wasn’t just about chewing food slowly.

I feel like in today’s world – parents are on this see-saw of emotions and expectations. On one side: STRESS-BUSY-DO-IT-ALL-YOU SHOULD-BE-EXHAUSTED and on the other: TIME-GOES-TO-FAST-THEY’LL-BE-GROWN-BEFORE-YOU-CAN-BLINK-TAKE-IT-ALL-IN!

Both of these tend to rub me the wrong way. On one hand, are we so busy and “in the thick of it” complaining about the toll of parenting that we are forgetting how important these moments are with our little ones? On the other hand, if I’m constantly thinking about how important these moments are and how fleeting they are, there’s this pressure I feel in my chest of time just flying. Of never complaining, of grieving their childhood before it’s even gone. Neither of those make me feel grounded as a person or as a parent.

Well after my little self-savor-party (no, that is not a dirty joke), I noticed the word starting to creep in more. I wrote it in my journal…savor….opening my mind to let the concept in a little more.

The kids playing with each other and not fighting (a joyous moment for sure) …rather than thinking “they’ll never be this young again! Take it in while you can! Soon they’ll be grown!” and rather than hurrying off to get something done while it was quiet…. Time slowed. Savor, I could hear this voice whispering in my head. This is your family right now.

On the back deck with temperatures under 95 degrees and the evening light just so and the zinnias bobbing heavily reminding me of Grandma, savor.

Bryce sitting in my lap to read a book, small hand resting on my arm. Savor.

At Otter Creek, the kids bustling from rock to rock. Laying in a cool pool beneath a tiny water fall to feel that cold, cold mountain water run over my skin, ears underwater so just the sound of the stream washed by, sun shining through the water. Oh man, savor.

The burn of my legs walking up a hill. Savor.

The sound of Papa’s voice on his 91st birthday. Savor.

And yes, a bite of dark chocolate. Savor.

For some, this is cliché or obvious. But for me it’s a bit of a gift. I’ve learned over the years that my mental and emotional disposition is often to brace myself. As someone who luuurvs feeling in control and boxes checked, I -without even realizing it- constantly try to stay aware and ready and prepared and understanding what’s next. It provides a sense of comfort, in some ways. But in others, it makes relaxing not my forte. A constant tension in my shoulders.

The last few weeks where the voice has whispered to savor has surprised me. Maybe because I thought it was just silly at first. Maybe because I didn’t expect the lesson to linger passed the meditation alter and trickle into daily life on the driveway watching my kids and in moments of nature, but it has.

What happens when I savor is that my whole self softens. My emotions, my brain, my body. There isn’t pressure to make the moment bigger than it is or to look for these moments every minute of the day. They just kind of … arrive. For someone who usually sucks at ‘living in the moment,’ it allows me to experience the present, like a deep sigh. A big breath in and out. A soft hand on my back.

I certainly don’t have it all figured out, nor I am a zen-mom floating through her day now, but I now look forward to that voice of gentle grace that smiles and reminds me to enjoy just for the sake of enjoying.

Savor, she whispers.

Okay. I’m listening.