A First Time For Everything

It’s a miracle.

To this mom, at least.

I meditated my son and I out of the point of no return.

Which always sounds great in theory, but hasn’t really proven successful to date.

Not like this.

To get to that space of peace amidst piercing screams and ferocious energy. Swinging legs and feet. A tear-stained red face. It’s not easy. It’s stressful. My heart starts beating a million miles a minute. Breath tight. Muscles even tighter. I reach for a solution in the moment. Only to come up empty. Brain so clogged and fogged I default to the same highly emotive reactive state that’s being projected onto me.

It’s not pretty.

Today started off like any other day.

Which, as any mom knows, can feel a hundred different ways. I was a little annoyed from the start. Awoken by a bouncing boy using my groggy body as a trampoline. Some days, I can get into it right away. Chasing him into the kitchen for breakfast. Tickling at his armpits until we both dissolve into a pile of giggles.

Other days. Not so much.

After breakfast and the park, we returned home. Diving half-heartedly into a couple of activities. Him = tired and defiant. Me = just tired. The combination which eventually led to a meltdown. It started to go its usual course, both our voices rising in the attempt to be heard. Acknowledged.

And it struck me.

I saw myself outside myself. I was there. But only in body. My spirit was provoked. My mind muddled. I needed a plan. And I had one. Maybe it’s been there the whole time. Buried too deep to be found.

I walked over to the bed. Laid down. Searched for crystal bowls and hit the top result that appeared on Spotify. Arms to the side and deep breaths in. Anger radiating from the tiny body beside me.

Calm down, I say.

I AM, he roared. I AM CALM. I AM CALM. I AM CALM…

You may be calm. But I am not. Even though I look like I am, I am very upset from all the yelling. When we are both calm, we can talk.

Take some deep breaths, I advised. Arms at your side.

Instead he curled up on my chest. Breathing slowly in and out. Eyes returning to a conscious and somewhat pensive state. By the third song, he was asleep.

This feels like a big victory. Not only for me as a person. To draw on that power in one of those critical times of need and make change. But for my son, to fully realize the magic of meditation outside of when we practice. To create stillness and know what it’s like to soothe fiery emotions with cool wind. Cool wind of your own volition.

If I do nothing else in this life. It will be to teach you, that you are responsible for you.

And kid…you’ll move mountains.

Leave a Reply