Before I get all caught up in work and current events and all the stuff that challenges my hard-won serenity, I have to tell you about this morning. Up at 4 to practice, a good one, breath and focus there – for the most part. Duck woke up at 5 and found interesting ways to cuddle in the midst of some of the floor poses. I admit that I didn’t particularly mind having to take a break to get her a drink or a blanket or give her a hug.
When I get up early to practice, we seem to leave the house just a few minutes earlier. It makes things easier.
Duckie fell asleep on the way in to school, a rare occurrence. But she still wanted to open the door and walk in by herself. We have to stop her to get a good-bye kiss, and then she’s off to her day and we’re off to ours.
It’s drizzly this morning, and it seems darker than usual. As if the time change happened over the weekend and I missed it. (Wouldn’t be the first time.) The sun was coming up behind us as we drove down 64 to the plant, and I noticed a pretty, dark pink vertical stripe in the sky.
“It’s a rainbow,” Brian said after a moment.
“I’ll be damned,” I said. I’d never seen one this early in the morning. At first you couldn’t see the blue and green, but as we got closer, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, we saw that it had blossomed into a full rainbow. And – this is hilarious, and I’m still giggling – the plant was at the End of the Rainbow.
Ironic, yes – but mostly it was stunning. I sent two friends outside to go look. They reported that it had turned double a few minutes later. I wasn’t disappointed – I felt blessed to have witnessed it, and blessed to have been able to share it with everyone who saw it. It’s a bit of atmospheric magic that doesn’t come around that often.
Duckie showed off her yoga to our friend and her daughter who visited this weekend.
She unrolled her mat and raised her arms to the sky, looked up, stretched up, then stretched down, hands to the floor and – get this – jumped back to plank position, lowered down, and rolled up into possibly the most beautiful upward dog I’ve ever seen. Then she pushed right back into downward dog, jumped up to her hands, raised her arms to the sky, and brought them down in front of her in prayer position.
Y’all, I never taught her that. Seriously, I didn’t. I can only think that she’s watched me (and the occasional video) in the mornings often enough to pick it up through osmosis. Just a graceful little flow from a gorgeous little three-year-old. I’m breathless just thinking about it.
LEAF is this weekend. Inspired by Brian’s kick-ass job on the house, I finished the laundry, put it away, and cleared off my dresser, so that Duckie’s grandmother and her husband can have a more or less comfortable place to stay over the weekend.
I’m cautiously excited. If it happens as planned, Brian and I will have a weekend on our own – two nights – for the first time in three years. I know I’ll still be looking around for our daughter. That’s inevitable. I’ll call, if we can get service on the mountain. I’ll miss her.
And I’ll still have fun, all at the same time.
I had a strangely blissful moment on Saturday evening. Part of me thought, oh, crap, is this too much? Do I need to adjust the meds? Damn it, I thought I was stable.
Kinda sad, and kinda funny. All at the same time.