On the eve of a new/super moon, solar eclipse I feel moved to write about remembering what’s important in life. With all that’s going on in the cosmos right now, my body and my energy has slowed right down. It feels a bit like a forced respite. The Universe’s way of saying, “Stop and take a breath. Matter of fact, take several deep breaths, all in a row!” For the last several weeks I’ve felt a bit like I’m moving in slow motion under water. If you’ve ever had a traumatic experience, where you’re pulled out of time as we know it, and catapulted into an alternate sense of reality, you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s as if you’re watching your life as an interested observer, removed from your body, and everything is happening in slow motion.
I guess in many ways, the world we live in is undergoing many traumatic experiences right now. As an empathic person, it can be a challenge to turn off the angst of the world. Remembering to hold and shine my light sometimes falls by the wayside when the going gets tough. Luckily for me, I had the honour of babysitting my 18-month-old grandson this past weekend. As always, he taught me about what matters. Watching him navigate his world and the relationships he has with the people he loves, and who love him in return, touched my heart. When he’s hungry he asks to eat. When he watches his favourite show Paw Patrol he is completely engaged. He only speaks a couple of words right now, but he speaks them with feeling, and gusto, and volume when he’s really excited! Everything he does, he puts his whole heart and soul into.
There is no holding back for him, waiting for a better time to love, or eat, or engage with the world. He is truly here now, in every sense of the word. He shines his light because that is who he is. It’s not conditional. He is 100 percent present in every moment. He is love personified. I consider myself lovingly schooled by an 18-month-old mini master! Thanks for being my teacher once again baby Lucian. Grandma loves you more than words can say. Thanks for holding the light for me, so that I could remember my own.