As I was rocking Rory to sleep the other night and she had an ear ache (so, obviously, I was stressing out about all the things a parent with a sick kid stresses about), I had an insight.
Looking back, it was the perfect breeding ground for an insight. It was quiet. Her nightlight gave her room a warm glow. It was a mild spring evening. She’d finally fallen asleep. Her full relaxed weight lay against my chest and her head flopped a little back and forth along with the rocking of the chair (which is my sign that she’s out and I can transfer her to bed).
I felt a strange sense of calm peacefulness sweep over me. And I realized…
This is all perfect. I saw that, as difficult and stressful as life can be, I have everything I could ever want.
But my ego. My ego wants more money so it can not stress about missing work. It wants this ear ache not to be an infection. It wants Rory to sleep through the night. Just once. And it worries that it will likely not happen. Not this night.
It wants a lot of things. And it always will.
So be it. But here’s what I realized.
I want to stop wanting better moments. Instead, I want to go deeper into each present moment as it lays at my feet.
Deeper. Not more.
Richer. Not better.
More meaning. Less desiring.
I want to be here now. As horrible as these sick moments are, I feel grateful that I can provide for her. That I’m blessed with the incredible responsibility of being one of the ones she leans on and falls asleep on when she’s sick.
The depth of this moment shows me that one day, Rory will be too big to rock. I see that any number of things can stand in the way of me being able to do this tomorrow. I could get hit by a bus or have a heart attack. I have no idea. And it’s not my job to know.
All I know is that now, as in always. I have all I need.
I just want to sink into that.
Take me deeper, Life.
Take me deeper.