I was standing at the stove, boiling ramen noodles as I listened to the heated debate starting to simmer between the two preschoolers. I knew I was moments from needing the intervene and pass a fair judgement on the dispute. Meanwhile, the toddler, hearing the start of something interesting, interjected himself right into the middle of the fray, extracing loud screams from both sibilings who prefer that he leave them alone while they play/argue/debate. Screaming. Ramen. I forgot if I'd even had a shower yet that day. The thought came into my head with crystal-like clairty.
"My life has been reduced to this?!?!"
Then almost as quickly as the conflict was resolved by my referee calls and separation, that little voice, the one that pulls you back to a place of grace, said, "What is reduced?"
My thoughts went immediately to cooking. I watched the ramen bubble. To reduce something, especially over intense heat is "to decrease the volume and concentrate the flavor of by boiling." Has my life been reduced? Most certainly. It doesn't have the excess volume of self-centered luxuries. It's not filled with useless relationships. It doesn't have time or space for empty, hopeless investments. Each moment is full of concetrated joy, work, value, and eternity. Life is not what I thought it would be 12 years ago. It's much smaller, but so, so much more sweet.
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2 comments:
Heidi,
This morning was a crazy morning. It started with Levi fussing and whining about anything and everything that he could whine about. He was comfortably snuggling in my bed while I read the morning news on the internet. Then Elizabeth came in and wanted to snuggle too. He didn't like that. So for the next 10 minutes pushing and shoving and fussing ensued. Then it was breakfast time. The first thing that Levi says when his sleepy eyes open is, "I'm starving." So until his belly is full, he reminds me. Reading the news at this point is not that enjoyable. Our Magic Chef 1960's oven door broke recently. So I have to prop the door closed with a chair and a stool. Pretty inconvenient in our little kitchen, but it works for the time being. Well, Levi has decided that this stool is his special stool. So this morning as the waffles were heating he was crying about me using his stool. Well that was it. I couldn't take any more fussing. So I placed a cut up, peanut-buttered, and syruped waffle on the table for Levi, and took my plate of waffles and headed up stairs to relax and regroup before I lost it. I know, I'll read mommy brain. I haven't been on in so long. So I was so happy to catch up on posts and just be encouraged by your reflections. You brightened my morning. A few laughs, a few sighs. Ah, mommy brain saves the day. Thanks for sharing Heidi.
ANNE
Wow. That is really beautiful.
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