"From the Taoist point of view, sourness and bitterness come from the interfering and unappreciative mind.  Life itself, when understood and utilized for what it is, is sweet."  Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

 

It is just one of those evenings.  Perhaps it is the change of weather that has managed to unleash the grump in all of us.

 

My 12-year-old is lost in his book and makes every effort to remain there.  But there are things we need him to do. He needs to unpack his bag from the weekend and put away the clothes on his bed.  He says, "I will."  But he doesn't.  His lack of response only serves to fuel my mounting frustration.  As the evening wears on, even my calm, rock-of-a-husband is knocked off-kilter.  

 

Bedtime brings some reprieve although the tasks remain undone.  

 

The next morning, I get up early to have a little time to myself. 

 

Then, without really thinking about it, I make my way into his room and climb up into his top bunk.  His long, lanky body now almost stretches the length of the bed.  I crawl up until I am alongside him and drape my arm over his side.  I feel his breath rise and fall.  I lie there in the dark listening.  Then I begin to follow the pattern.  I breathe with him.  It is warm lying next to him.  I love this child so much.  This child who is so quickly growing into a man. I realize how precious this moment is and I sink into it, enjoying the sweet luxury it brings.  Nothing else matters. I feel only gratitude for this wonderful being that is in my life.  

 

The minutia of the day ahead pulls me out of this moment. I realize that I need to get up, so I do.  

 

I walk into the kitchen.  A thought stops me in my tracks. Whoa!  Was that mindfulness? I think it was.

 

Eventually, he traipses into the kitchen. He smiles a groggy smile. Peace has returned.

 

When I walk into his room later that morning, I see his empty suitcase. His clothes have been put away.

 

Cool.