And this, my friend, is what I love about a weekend morning. The majority of my week is very structured and while I thrive in that structure I also love to allow the part of me who can’t stay on task to express herself.

I was sitting in bed journaling on a Sunday morning. The September wind was blowing and the air was crisp and cool. My windows were open and I could hear the wind chimes dancing in the wind and providing a mesmerizing twinkle to offset the rush of the wind gusts.

He was lying on the reiki table where I was demonstrating the concept and technique. He had started the camera recording but I knew that he would have to edit out the transition as we were setting up. I leaned forward and pressed my breast against his head and face and then laughed like crazy.

They didn’t need other people to accept this aspect of them, they simply needed to accept this aspect of themselves. The inability to belong in community was driven by an inability to belong inside of themselves. I watched the moment that they allowed belonging inside of themselves, and it felt like I was watching it in slow motion, almost as if time had slowed down just so that I got to soak up every second of witnessing this individual in their process. 

“I mean, I am not going to sit here and tell you what to do because it is your life, but I can offer you a different lens to look through if you would like,” I said with no attachment to whether he liked what he saw through the lens that I was holding.

Before my eyes had even opened for the morning I could feel intrusive thoughts rushing towards me. All of the things that needed to get accomplished before my son’s soccer game began to rattle through my mind.

There were moments where the boys were giggling like small children and then moments where they were competitive and masculine like men. I watched them switch easily and quickly between strategy on the laser tag field and giggles when they had been shot by another boy.

Each night when I climb into bed, I brush the dirt from my feet before I slide between the clean sheets. There is something magickal for me about sleeping in clean sheets, it is one of the small things that I enjoy so deeply.

Later that evening, while sitting at dinner, she watched him sailing his old and battered sailboat across the lake. There was no wind, and he wasn’t making very good time, but the longer she watched him, the more she noticed that he was happy and didn’t care that he wasn’t making good time or that his sailboat was old and battered. He was happy, he was free.

I had been sitting for a period of time in silent meditation, and the kittens had been running and playing around the room for the majority of the time. Years ago, I had learned how to keep my awareness within myself and not focus on the noises in my environment thus I wasn’t focused on them.