As I write this, I can hear Mackenzie shouting " Go LAY down!" It's then I realize that Ellie is outside and it's her brother she's talking to. And it's almost as if he knows exactly what he's doing when he hurries after her as she stomps away. And though it may not be the proper thing to do, I laugh. Right out loud. Mackenzie, first upset that I'm laughing at her frustration, then joins in, her dimples showing as she laughs. Mason zooms by, blowing raspberries ( his own personal commentary) and Mike hurries down the stairs but stops long enough to plant a kiss on each of us, and a pat on the head for Ellie. It's the music of my house and sometimes I am far too busy to actually listen to it.
There are these fleeting moments of perspective - times when I can see only what is important. Those moments are a gift. It's as if, before this moment, life is flying past me and I'm struggling to triage things as they whiz by me. Suddenly, perspective hits and I wonder why I'm racing through life when I should be savoring it. I plop down on the couch, suddenly realizing how tired I am.It's then that I notice the sun shining through Mason's ears. They are aglow , blazing pink , maybe a half size too big for his little bald head but they are my favorite thing about him. Through them, I can see the branching blood vessels, working away, a tiny dimple on the left lobe,identical to the one on his daddy's. I see how he examines every detail of the block in his hand before he drops it to the floor, already looking for something else before it hits. My phone rings next to me, the doctor's office calling to confirm my appointment, and the moment is gone. In it's place , the familiar hum of thoughts , lists, imaginary conversations swirling around my brain.
These moments make me realize that I'm throwing away gold while searching out pennies. I take care to keep things in order, to be sure everyone has a new toothbrush at the exact time they should, that they eat enough vegetables and sleep enough. Those things
are important but so much of my attention is spent on details that, in the bigger picture, don't matter. So on this Thanksgiving day eve, along with all the other important things I am thankful for, I am most thankful for these moments of clarity. And though it may take some work, I want to be purposeful to not miss out on those little but (oh so big )moments while I slave over the details that don't always matter.
I write this not as someone who has it all figured out. But as someone who wants to do better. We can always do better, can't we? I'm making it a point to slow down
my pace of life in order to collect more of these treasured snippets of time. Once a week, I'll share a favorite moment of perspective.
