Ten.Two Hundred & Fifty-One
1. I feel his hand tap my side a few times. My alarm is going off and I didn't hear it. This never happens.
2. The first bit of light always gets me.
3. Sometimes, when I do what has now become an ordinary thing like calling the attendance line to let the school know your child will be absent, I think to myself, "How is this my life? This is so strange. I am a mother."
4. International Women's Day. I forgo sharing lists out of fear of forgetting to name. And there are so many names. So today I will just feel into the power of the women who love me and the women I've loved and for the women that will be.
5. On my way upstairs I notice two large rectangles of light and I turn around to sit down in it. Throw my head back and stretch my neck. Try to feel the warmth of it. Then I find a larger rectangle in my son's room and do the same thing.
6. "We start out as little bits of disconnected dust." - Naomi Shihab Nye, 19 Varieties of Gazelle
7. I watch for his breathing as he moves up and down the court. His face looks tired.
8. I start with the kitchen. The daffodils are widening, taking up more space, brushing up against one another. Clean countertops are soothing.
9. I manage to attach the new vacuum hose all on my own. This feels like a some kind of great feat. I'm just glad that I did it on my own. That I didn't have to ask for help. That I didn't have to be angry when the help didn't come precisely when I wanted it. Just a few days ago I told my mother that, like my father, I hate to ask for help. I have trouble asking for a lot of things.
10. Extra long shower that is drying out my skin. "I feel like I need to root down into where I am right now before I can dream up new possibilities," is what I say to her. It is true. I think productive daydreams require me to be grounded, present, clear. No moves made out of desperation. No grasping. More like hands cupped and waiting to recieve.