All In

I had to open up my journal from Tipi Camp tonight to remind myself that I was actually there.  It's been less than two weeks since my return home and my silent mornings and asana filled days feel ridiculously far from my present state.  Exhaustion overwhelms me.  I will stop right there. 

But I seem to have maintained a bit of a stillness inside. It certainly isn't pure, it certainly isn't unwavering, but it's like a deep calm was ignited on the shores of that lake.  I want to maintain that stillness.  My mantra for now.

Solomon's stillness is in a state of flux as he started kindergarten on Tuesday.  He had a long, long day and was definitely full of all sorts of questions.  I spied on him from my upstairs window at work and my was it wild to see him, one of the smallest in a sea of huge children racing around.  Tonight he belly laughed from his raw little core while I read Captain Underpants.  His belly laugh is one of the most beautiful things on earth.

And then there's little missy third grade.  Today she sang her Matilda song acapella for her whole class.  She has been practicing this little number incessantly, like really, at the top of her lungs, in the basement, in the living room, on the swing, to the trees, incessantly for the past few weeks.  It's all she wants to do.  Sing.  It's pretty damn awesome, British accent and all (though I will say last night, after a very long first day of school, followed by ballet class and a very late return home, it was pretty hard to stomach yet another rendition, especially as she really just sings the same song over and over again).  Holy awesome, that girl.  Full of her own special spice. 

So here we are.  Again.  Our little world has turned big, full of faces and noises, school bells and Spanish verbs.  I am sending myself big doses of energy and strength.  I am sending myself deep, healing breaths.  I am elevating my feet and drinking lemon tea, honoring the fullness of this life.