It was late, hours after we put her to bed. I snuck into her room and shook her quietly. “Get up.” She rubbed her eyes and looked fairly confused, but smiled and put her arms up to be lifted out of her blankets. I took her out on the deck, where we had set up the telescope to gaze at the stars above. She pointed at planets and satellites and constellations. We oooh’d and ahhh’d at how many of those bright balls of gas you could actually see, away from the city lights, by the quiet of the lake. Then she said to me, “I’m ready to go back to bed now.” And off she went, hopefully with a memory she’ll dream about when she’d old enough to remember her crazy nerd mother, who woke her up in the middle of the night to stare at the sky.
*Photos of the stars at Council Grove Lake, in Council Grove, Kansas. I was amazed when I saw the color in them…it’s incredible what the naked eye can’t see.*
I guess I tend to think of the Digital Sabbatical as one, long yoga session. When you first start (or at least, whenever I start a yoga class), my mind is definitely not quiet. I am usually late, rushing in as everyone else has already started their first pose. My heart is racing, I am embarrassed as everyone stares at me getting out my mat, I am not quite ready to be there. My to do list is running through my head, over and over as I try to focus on my breathing, and my mind wanders even though the entire point of yoga is to get your brain to shut up already. I’m sad to admit, sometimes it takes the entire class before I just stop. STOP. And sit. And listen. And quiet all the noise and chatter. Usually, it is somewhere in the last ten minutes that I am really and truly present in that moment, listening to my body and disappearing into the sounds of bells and soft music and deep breaths.
Then the lights go up, the instructor says “Namaste” and I think to myself, “I need to do this more often.”
That’s how this year’s Sabbatical was to me. I was so crazy, running around like a madwoman for the first week or so, and then, I just stopped. Listened to my own breath. Took in each moment.
Stardust
/0 Comments/in Happiness, Lucy, Nerd Herd, Space Camp /by MeganIt was late, hours after we put her to bed. I snuck into her room and shook her quietly. “Get up.” She rubbed her eyes and looked fairly confused, but smiled and put her arms up to be lifted out of her blankets. I took her out on the deck, where we had set up the telescope to gaze at the stars above. She pointed at planets and satellites and constellations. We oooh’d and ahhh’d at how many of those bright balls of gas you could actually see, away from the city lights, by the quiet of the lake. Then she said to me, “I’m ready to go back to bed now.” And off she went, hopefully with a memory she’ll dream about when she’d old enough to remember her crazy nerd mother, who woke her up in the middle of the night to stare at the sky.
I’m Bored
/0 Comments/in Family, Fun /by MeganEver hear that one? Yeah, well, as my niece learned, when you say “I’m bored” in my house, we tend to go a little crazypants.
Namaste
/0 Comments/in Uncategorized /by MeganI guess I tend to think of the Digital Sabbatical as one, long yoga session. When you first start (or at least, whenever I start a yoga class), my mind is definitely not quiet. I am usually late, rushing in as everyone else has already started their first pose. My heart is racing, I am embarrassed as everyone stares at me getting out my mat, I am not quite ready to be there. My to do list is running through my head, over and over as I try to focus on my breathing, and my mind wanders even though the entire point of yoga is to get your brain to shut up already. I’m sad to admit, sometimes it takes the entire class before I just stop. STOP. And sit. And listen. And quiet all the noise and chatter. Usually, it is somewhere in the last ten minutes that I am really and truly present in that moment, listening to my body and disappearing into the sounds of bells and soft music and deep breaths.
Then the lights go up, the instructor says “Namaste” and I think to myself, “I need to do this more often.”
That’s how this year’s Sabbatical was to me. I was so crazy, running around like a madwoman for the first week or so, and then, I just stopped. Listened to my own breath. Took in each moment.
And before I knew it, it was August 1.
*Photo by Lucy*