Here I am again.
Today I've found it really difficult to maintain my equilibrium.
It has been one of those days where I am frantic for two minutes of peace (so that I can 'get it together'), and the more I run the more demanding of my attention my children have been.
I hate these sorts of days. I hate the feeling of desperation and panic.
I don't like being in a position where I just don't have it to give. It feels mean and hateful (hate-filled) and I question my ability to be a good mother. I feel I am mean and hateful.
We're all downstairs. I'm in my room - how lovely to be able to write down here - have notebook will travel- and the babes are in the playroom next door. They come in every few minutes because they like it in here, too.
Funny thing - just by sitting down, with my oils burning, the light low, and Coyote Oldman's "In Beauty I Walk" playing, all the darkness of a few minutes ago seems just a dream.
It has lost its power.
My mind is quiet, my hands are steady, my heart feels strong, and my spirit is at ease.
So... how did I now come to be here?
to be continued....
sidenote: turns out it's not even afternoon! looked at the clock and it says 11:42. Oh, my.