what i need right now

what i need in my house is calm, gentle, soothing openness with sunlight.

what i need in my life is calm, gentle, soothing openness with breathing.

what i need in this world is calm, gentle, soothing openness with compassion.

i cleaned out remy's clothes drawers again this morning. i have to do it several times a season, he is growing tall so fast. oh, how my heart takes an immense gentle joy in cleaning out the old clothes, especially the ones i have dyed or helped dye (love you, love you, love you). saying goodbye to each worn piece is a wonderful task: our boy is growing, our boy is here.

i am too aware right now of all the other children who aren't here. of all the children who are missed so greatly. my heart needs this gentleness, this soothing, this reminding. my heart needs to see that yes, look we had to buy new winter pajamas. he is growing. he is here.

(thank you. thank you. thank you.)

last night i noticed that right after i get my nightly surge of energy (it picks up around 9 pm), i had a choice. i could either distract myself intellectually (reading reviews of steam cleaners and googling house cleaning schedules - hmmmm) or i could actually clean something instead of thinking about how to get back to cleaning things.

whoa, that was an interesting reminder. (epiphanies happen over and over again, when we need them.) and that i could do it so gently, even better. i didn't beat myself up or think too many absurdly hateful things about my week or so of putting it off (but i did make a decision on which steam cleaner to get because it was time).

and this morning i woke up with mostly clean bathrooms. a calm living room. a clean kitchen. the kitchen isn't unusual: i set myself into that habit when i started making remy's lunch in the evening and it has stuck.

today i feel like there's some vacuuming to do. some more decluttering. the lego situation is out of hand again, of course. the office/art room/dining room, too. throwing out, throwing out, throwing out. what remains is what is loved. what is needed.

i don't feel like i need to keep googling house cleaning schedules though. just make space to notice what is needed and then work on that piece. little by little. day by day. my house is like my growing boy's clothes drawers: it needs deeper attention a few times each season.

deeper attention to make space for openness, to find the sunlight.

deeper attention to bring back the gentle spaciousness, to pay attention to the breath.

deeper attention to noticing the compassion that links me so intrinsically with the world.