when you look up at the night sky full of stars, you don't need to be convinced. it's right there in plain sight. but wait, here's something — try explaining stars to a child. explain to them that they are made up of the same materials as one. tell them about the moon, it's phases. chat with them about seasons, sunsets and strawberries. go into great detail about how these little red berries just grow and when they're ripe you simply pluck their sweetness from a bush then pop it into your mouth. tell them about pineapples. have you ever seen a baby pineapple? it's perfection. and coconuts? list all the ways that coconuts are lessons in abundance. afterwards, try to describe how trees talk to each other, through an underground system we can't even see. oh, and don't forget to tell them how those same trees also help us to breathe. go ahead. explain all this to a child. see if you can say you don't believe in magic.
today i buzzed around all day but felt that nothing got done. meals were made, toys were taken out and put away again. groceries were bought: pineapple, tomatoes, cucumber. things were ticked off to-do lists. preparations for Mimi's upcoming visit. hardware store, swim, negotiations about TV. concessions made. meals eaten, jackfruit cut, smoothie date at the local cafe. i thought to myself, i should be writing more. but i also thought hey, at least i'm writing.
and when i wrote out the whole day, even in point form and looked at it from up here, bird's eye view, as they say —
i thought of the herons we see daily. the vultures that fly overhead that you so often call eagles, and i don't correct you. because eagles are nobler, somehow.
i thought of the big picture.
life is like that, you know.
it's a bunch of tiny dots, that connect to make a reality that is so much more than we tend to give it credit for. its astonishing, really, that we don't spend most of our time in complete awe of the out-of-this-world beauty that is our every day moment-to-moment reality.
the fact that you even exist. that we are here, at all. that herons are taking flight and vultures are soaring overhead, pretending to be eagles. that wings can spread and wind can lift, that the moon controls the tides and the sun rises each morning to greet us.
finally, the sound of the waves crashing outside our little house was enough to inspire me begin this poem again.
today i buzzed around all day but felt that nothing got done. however, each moment was truly full of wonder and magic. and i was lucky enough to be able to spend a whole day loving my son. and we passed the time marveling at the world together.
the things i love are so small. my son's tiny hand in mine. the top of his head tucked under my chin. the coffee someone makes me. a guitar being strummed. wind rustling the trees. mangoes. stretching my body. my Dad's laugh. my Mom's Hello Honey, as she answers my call. sunlight dancing on water. being barefoot. a smile exchanged with a stranger. the things i love are so big. the mountains of northern Thailand. a whole country that both made and undid me. the lakes of Ontario. huge, holy trees. the sky at dawn. new beginnings. possibility on the horizon. this chaotic, beautiful world. Motherhood. hope. love. life.
mama musings 