cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“Please stop watching.” The round, green eyes of my traveling companion flash as she whispers these words toward me. We are sitting in a crowded, delayed airplane stuck on the runway. Hot, stuffy, and impossibly close. Bodies of all sizes are wadded into same-sized seats like so many sausage parts stuffed into casings. The man next to me,…
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A few nights ago, my three-and-a-half year-old daughter, steeped in curiosity, approached me with yet another one of her earnest questions. “Mom,” she said, her big blue eyes looking up at me, “What’s a mother?” Familiar only with the more casual “Mom,” “Mama,” or “Mommy,” she had heard the word “mother” somewhere and found it…
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I often find myself looking at my two girls and longing for the level of ignorance they are afforded at the ages of 2 and under. There’s so much they are protected from, so many worries and responsibilities they don’t have to engage. What do they have to be stressed about?
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“Working with our life circumstances is how we render reality perfected. Perfection is unattainable. ‘Perfected’ is possible.” — Sarah Ban Breathnach from Simple Abundance The cup of coffee my husband left for me on the nightstand is lukewarm now, reminding me I was supposed to actually get out of bed half an hour ago. I…
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On Fridays Asha is at home with me. We stay in pajamas and linger together as I drink several cups coffee. Asha and I play, navigating our steps through scattered crayons layered with paper, toys, and stickers. Asha’s young presence is remarkably jovial and peaceful. As we play, I find myself falling in love with…
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Ask a mom of littles what her day looks like, and she will probably laugh in your face. The day, in large part, is what it is. However, since entering the parenting trenches three-and-a-half years ago, I have begun to take hold of the unexpected practice of peacemaking through planning. What used to read “prison”…
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I’m familiar with waking up in the dark and walking through it. The concept illustrates my life both metaphorically and literally. The other morning, I arose in the dim light of 5 a.m. before the rest of my family. As I scurried to the coffee pot for medicine to aid in sleep deprivation, I heard…
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We all went home to dark houses that night. Saba’s Christmas Spirit had tripped the power. Again. Imagine the holiday fervor of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, except an entire island. The phrase “dripping with lights” would not be far from the truth. It is a wonder to behold, and a necessary indulgence.
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I stared at her angelic form swaddled beneath the moonlit window. She was so sweet, so small, so fragile. Who was I to bear the responsibility of her, to soothe her fevers and give her direction, to train her and teach her about God and the world? I watched her breathe, in and out, in…
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