My husband is setting the alarm for 4:30 and rising enthused about work.
I rise a little later giving myself permission to lie in bed and mentally roam. Lately, I’m obsessed with babies and my three month and counting grandson.
I’m aware of roundness and reach, and focus near and far. I push him on the swing; he comes forward and flows back. Over and over we play with this shift in distance and space, until I feel the call to lift him out for a kiss and a hug.
I touch his nose with my nose and pull back – near and far, one of our favorite games so far. He laughs and I laugh. We mirror joy, relate as one and two and more as there is sky above us and grass beneath, or carpet at times, or wood. We notice texture, skin, clothes, touch, smell. He always smells baby-sweet.
I think of all the children in the world, each coming with different gifts. How do we honor and utilize each one? How do we do that for ourselves?
Right now, it’s dark outside and inside this room, there’s only the light of this screen. I light a candle, watch the flame, a nostril moving light through air. Cat Bella is on the chair next to me, insisting on attention. I kiss her, and use words with her, each word a touch, a flame.
Air responds to words like candlelight, and soon the sun will bring her full embrace to the day, a day between Lincoln’s birthday and Valentine’s Day.
This moment clarifies bliss as it opens to nurture and inspire the courage of Lincoln as we kiss our own hand to fluff the air as it moves in and out.
Like this day, we are new; we are Baby Light!