Temporary? Insanity

I haven’t got anything to say, really. Nothing witty, nothing profound. Life has been too full to leave much time for the deep rambling thoughts I so often indulge in.

There has been far, far too much cake around here. Emma saying in her overly loud voice, “What a great surprise!” over and over again as she took in the sight of the balloons and streamers, the birthday cake and cupcakes, the presents, the friends, the goodies. It was a day passing delight for her, and more than worth the sore feet and aching back that plagued her suddenly old mummy afterwards.

Father’s day was full of cuddling and I love you’s. Sweet smiles and finger painted posters for daddy. Good food. Another cake. The priceless sight of Neil’s pleased I-know-I’m-loved smile that I wish I worked hard enough to see every moment of every day.

Monday was a Monday. Mild allergies morphed into sinusitis. A day at home curled up on the couch avoiding anything even remotely resembling thought. Cuddling my daughters, reading when the pounding in my head would allow. The lovely glow of pride over having made dinner despite my wretchedness. Folding laundry in front of a favourite TV show and forgetting the discomfort of the sore throat and stuffed head.

And today, the crazy wonderful commitment to host playgroup every Tuesday morning. The bliss of visiting with like-minded women and listening to the kids laugh and screech and holler as they ran about inventing worlds with every step. The bugs they caught crawling about in plastic buckets as I hid in the sun dappled shade. The word idyllic comes to mind.

I come to realize that these simple events and passings of time are not mundane. This is the stuff of which life is made. There is no great depth that needs to be found in such moments. It is enough, to paddle along the surface of things, and simply be.

I am not good at simply being. Mine is a mind that loves to complicate and ruminate. And yet, what a blessing to be still for a time and let life pass by without analysis or wondering or worrying.

I think, perhaps, I will practice this.