Matt’s lullaby

Fluff the pillow, 

and smooth out the sheets.

Pull back the covers,

Toothbrush away the sweets
Night time is here,

my soft little one,

We’ll enjoy tomorrow,

But now is bedtime for the sun.
I’ll tuck you in,

and give you a million kisses

I’ll read you a story

of colourful fishes.
Turn out the light 

and just drift away,

tonight in your dreams,

you can have fun and play.

Gratitude 

Today’s word is gratitude. It’s funny, because I think about this concept often. 

I’d like to say I think about being grateful everyday, but I’m far from a saint. 

Some days I feel bitter and evil inside, and wish people would just go away and leave me alone. In fact, I still sometimes feel like I’m twelve, and have to choke back the tears or anger. 

Some days I feel jealous and insecure, positive everyone knows I’m faking everything, that I’m an imposter in my own life, and if they only knew they would be so disappointed.

But today wasn’t one of those days. Maybe because they deliver the word at 6 am, so I had the day to think about gratitude, or maybe because it was a Sunday, a day of reflection and review.

I can’t believe everything that’s passed since I started writing down my thoughts at the end of the day.

I’ve watched two of my kids go to school, opened a new practice with some friends, published a book, finished my diploma in geriatrics, visited family, said goodbye.

The last six months haven’t all been roses by any means, but they have been a rich tapestry of events, of heartbreak and joy, love and loss. 

I can’t believe how lucky I am that my good outweighs the bad, that my positive thoughts outweigh the negative, 

and I am grateful. 

We may not have it all, but boy, do we have enough.

One clock to rule

My life is a list,

one thousand things long,

each as important as the next 

Paralyzed at times with the decision

of which item to do first 

when they all need

to get done at once.
So, 

some get done, 

and more get added.

But time runs short,

and the list grows,

swelling by the day.
At times I feel so overwhelmed

Drowned by the words on paper,

a symptom of the disease.

I wonder what would life be like

without a clock?

Like the ring in Tolkien,

the watch rules us all.
I break free of its unnatural power,

throw the list down,

and dance on the orders 

of my tiny general to Alejandro 

Feeling my shackles 

fall to the ground.

Tonight I prefer to live

outside the constraints of time.

Friday night movies

I watch as the big orange sky fades to dull grey, listening to the sounds of my children playing in their room.

Constant negotiations, laughter and tears, a dog in the middle of all the action, searching for stray popcorn.

Tonight was to be our “family movie night with popcorn treat.” 

But apparently, they had more energy to burn off than desire to watch tv. 

I thought about sending them to bed, slightly disappointed at the lack of snuggles on all sides that I’d been looking forward to all day.

But they were having so much fun. 

I remembered how that felt with my brothers, how much fun we had using our imaginations, 

how little we really cared about tv.

So now I sit on the couch, one child sprawled across my lap while the other two play. They change places from time to time, but mostly the middle child holds the fort while the other two play superhero’s.

I feel the warmth of happiness in being present in this moment. 

Inhale, exhale, 

repeat.

Vertigo 

The world is spinning right now, a surreal Dali Dance with Picasso points near and far.

It arrived gently with a feeling of floating before it progressed abruptly to dizziness, made no better or worse with the movement of my head.

I wracked my brain, trying to pinpoint a trigger and gave up. The same foods, same exercise,

same normal day. 

I get these spells from time to time, and never know from where or why. I try to use them as a chance to understand a different viewpoint, 

to feel my body in a different way. 

Is this what my dizzy elderly patient feels like? 

Is that what my middle aged man with multiple sclerosis means? 

Oh good, it’s departed again, leaving only a slight headache and the desire to eat junk food in its wake. 

Ephemeral and manageable again. 

I say a little thanks it didn’t stay, and promise to be a little more patient every day when someone tells me they don’t feel well.

Whatever the cause may be, the feeling is real and just as important to them as my dizzy is to me.

My island 

Do you remember?

The moment you first realized 

you were an island,

apart from the continent

of your birth?

Seperate 

and independent, 

sailing along on your own.

Slowly, identity formed 

Self determination grew,

with all the attendant storms 

and gales.

I watch as my little one splits off,

becoming his own creature,

manifesting his will,

crying until he passes out,

the storm exhausted

until the next time. 

Dawn’s light 

Beautiful skies,

a trademark of a prairie morn.

Amazing how looking east 

feels like home and stability,

and looking west 

smells like adventure.

Rockies vs ranges,

future and past.

I dream of climbing to the top.

But my feet stay 

on the firm prairie soil.

The fear of height is in my blood,

grounded and steady, always.

I dream of flying high and away

but stay and make a stable home.

Dreams are daily and forever,

each chance a new adventure.

Every day possibility for change,

reinvent and renew.

Just like the sun’s rays

that light my way.

Physical fitness

Walking in, 

a cacophony of children 

assaults my senses.

Shrieks on hardwood floor,
echoing wildly against the mirror.

I’m transported to my childhood,

old gym sounds unchanged,

a portal to the past. 

Hard work and fun with exertion,
and I remember why 

I love it so 

The mountains 

Moments are fleeting and few.

Born on the wind’s back, 

through clouds of slate blue

that pierce every crack.
Today we played in the rain

as it turned into snow, 

cold hands on a swing chain

Children cold, but ready to go
The mountains covered in white

So solid and true

Fresh air blowing my hair like a kite

Into eyes that see, anew.
This moment in nature’s wonder

fills my spirit with electric fire,

enlighten my soul with thunder

and releases my ire.

Senses

Sometimes we expect too much from ourselves. 

Push too hard, relax too little.

The crusty little general inside barking out more orders than wishes,

Not letting you get the rest you need, 

to heal your tired soul.

At times like that you can 

feel burdened 

and overwhelmed.

That is when it’s time to listen,

Breathe.

Stop.

Remember the feel of running down the lane, 

chased by the wild bubbling of the night in your heart,

Remember the glory of smooth water as you dove into the depths of the warm green water, mouthfuls of lake bed causing you to sputter when your gills didn’t appear as you had believed they would.

Wind whipping through your hair, maelstrom swirling, firestarter in your soul.

Soft tickles from the litter of kittens on your face, scratchy sandpaper tongues and tiny pinpricks batting.

Breathe 

and just remember 

sensations,

All six senses open to the world.

Exhale.

Release.

Repeat.