Last week my family spent a delightful week at the Oregon coast. It was a busy week full of many delights: library puppet shows, antique malls, salted caramel taffies, walks to town, and dinner in a favorite restaurant. What I missed were the daily quiet times where I could rest and recharge, the zumba class, time with my friends, reading after the kids went to bed (light woke Liam up), dipping my feet into the ocean, walking along the beach.
Finally getting home and into my long awaited weekly bath this morning, I followed my thoughts as usual. I first thought about a moment when a healing friend passed inattentively over my observation as he focused on his own thoughts. It's a small thing, but my awareness of that moment brought me to understand that we are all wonderfully imperfect, despite our best attempts. This universal truth is one I often try to change. I want to parent my children without raising my voice in frustration (or other less desirable activities), but my imperfection continues to shine through. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter if life gets out of hand without a professional cleaner/carpenter/gardener/chef, but I am able to communicate my ideas here while my daughter homeschools at my side and my son clings to me as if his life depends upon it. And it somehow works, as we hold on for the ride together. We are together, moving forward and sideways together, enjoying our moments... always together. It works. At least until the little one pulls the plug on the computer. Then we pause and take another blessedly imperfect step... together.