Every morning my child and I start off with a snuggle. It’s hard to remember to do this, to make the time for this. My mind has been going in a million different directions – there are so many things that need doing, so many things I want to do. I really want to sit and meditate… And Snuggling? It is not always on that list! But. When I just give myself the time and permission to do it – the rest of the day does become easier. There is a flow. And we are better at listening to each other and connecting. So, I try. Because, they are small for such a short period of time. And this is my chance now to install in him practises and patterns of behaviour which – hopefully – will support him later on.
This morning snuggle started off in the dining room chair. I had just made that all important first cup of tea. You know the one right? The one that is still hot… We started there – but he has grown so big now that he doesn’t really fit comfortably on my lap. My dressing gown doesn’t go round us both anymore. So, he wanted to move to the sofa… “I can’t carry you and my tea” I told him, laughing… We managed. He wrapped those legs around me, hung round my neck like a chimp and we got there, tea in one hand. By now, it was cool enough to drink -in one quick, throat warming liquid blissful gulp… passing thought – I was glad it was the regular size cup. On the sofa, he snuggled in. I couldn’t get comfy, lying half sideways, no support for my head. I could feel the tension in my body. And, I could feel how his body wasn’t relaxing properly…. I wriggled down, facing into the back of the sofa, with him curled up in my arms, tucked the dressing gown as closely around us as I could, wrapped his toes up in it… And breathed. And realised, I could meditate here, like this, with him in my arms. I might fall asleep again, but it wouldn’t actually matter.
So, lying there, wrapped around my son, with his back to me, in the warmth of the day not started yet, I let myself sink into my breath and my body. Just breathing. Focusing. Feeling. Noticing the thoughts. And letting them go. My body softened. My child’s body softened. I remembered what it was like to lie in the same position when he was still in my womb. Before I knew him as him. I softened further. And breathed deeper. Just for a moment.
The world stopped.
And I realised this is the most important thing I can do right now. His body gets this wisdom. Just breathing. Just being in the moment. Just softening.
This is something I want to share with all my mommys. This practise.
I have been desprately trying to find time and space to meditate on a regular basis, to share this with my child. And all the time it is right here, in my arms, every morning.
As we lay there, I remembered all the times I lay like this as a child, on the earth, feeling that undefinable sense of presence of the land around me wrapping around me. Holding me as a mother holds her child. As my own mother held me, when there was time. And just for a moment, as I lay there, holding my own child, I had a sense of that infinite, undefinable sense of presence, wrapping so softly around me once more. Holding me, holding my child. Safe and warm, in that moment before the day started. Supporting me always.