Mother’s Day

This Mother’s Day the whole family slept in, and I got the best Mother’s Day gift I could ask for, a beautiful sunny morning to myself, sitting at a table with some fresh flowers and a pen in hand. I opened up our backdoor and listened to the birds, trying to discern who was who by call alone. (One of my great loves are birds, though I wouldn’t call myself a birder, and I only have minor “Put a Bird on It” tendencies.)

The best thing about this Mother’s Day morning was just being there, my family safely in bed and a bit of busyness to help jump start my thoughts. The few tasks there were to do: a load of diapers needing washing, a dishwasher to unload, boiling water for coffee, were livened up by being the first things of the day. It was pleasant, and allowing myself to enjoy these things, rather than seeing them as a chore, was a gift I can hopefully continue to receive with each morning. The only way to do this is by opening myself up to experiencing it for the moment and the first part of the day is one of the best times to begin this practice. When everything is fresh and the world seems new.


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