Sleeping baby

There is nothing more simply divine, more perfectly precious than my sleeping child.

Throughout the hours of the day her voice is a constant, her expressions twist and shape her face.  She is a little girl with a swinging pony tail and quick running legs.

Deep into slumber she is my baby.  Her face is soft, round and warm- relaxed.  I can kiss her and snuggle her and she won't pull away to busy herself elsewhere.

I am reminded that she is still so small, despite her outspoken preferences and blooming independence.  She really will always be my baby.

Quit saying it isn't easy, you are fooling yourself and it's working

Funny thing about death- it bottom lines the world for us.

We are mortal, we are worrying about insignificant things, we are caught up in being righteous, picking fights that have no meaning and holding on to hurt that is sucking our small bit of time away from us.

People come together when another person dies.  They drop the pettiness that was so important just a moment ago.  They see the small things for what they are: small.

And they love each other again.

Not as lovers, but as people.  We let others have their space to be human and we love them for it.  It's a beautiful time in the midst of horrible sadness.

Then it fades.

We forget what we knew to be true and buy into, once again, the little annoyances that ruin our small time here.  It's so small.  It could literally end at an moment.  Truely.

How are you living today?  With loving abandon that fills your heart with joy?  Are you being outrageously fulfilled?

Let it go.  Let the ridiculous, radiant light in.  It's closer than you think.

Rise and shine!

Laying on my back, trying to wake up, suddenly the wind is knocked out of me and a sweet, round little face is all I can see.  She has flung herself onto me and is now belly to belly, grinning behind her pacifier.  Her eyes are creased at the corners, that's how big her grin is.  "Morning Mamma!" she says through clenched teeth, trying to keep her pacifier affixed.  Her hair is wild.  It hangs in her eyes and is swirled in eight different directions.  It is,  perhaps, the greatest part of my day.  "Good morning, my love" I say back to her, and I am completely and unequivocally content.  I have my greatest love on my belly, and my wonderful husband (whom I am also in love with) on my left.  There isn't one thing that could make this moment better.  The great thing is that this moment happens every day.  I get to experience bliss at least one time every single day.