23:15 I’ll admit I’m a bit tired and heavy and don’t feel much like celebrating. But that, I know, is because I’m not doing the internal work required to truly move forward.
WordPress has celebrated my one month of this blog by placing ads on it, I see. So I consider paying the minimum amount (€36/year) to remove them.
But I believe that in order to do my internal work, I need to begin journalling privately again. And in order to do that I may need to put a hold on blogging for awhile. We’ll see. I would like to just moderate but… well, we know how that goes. ;))
Case in point: I started another blog today. It was completely inadvertent. Not meant to replace this one, but to exist in addition to this one, and my other one, and the other other one… basically this is pretty much a sure sign that I need to go to blogaholics anonymous.
Other than that, today was a good and lazy day with my parents, husband and kids.
The wisteria is in full bloom, it is a joy to behold. I don’t make the time to behold it often enough. But I did get myself to exercise and run. I saw the lambs in the fields and the new horses too.
One thing I’m happy about is the fact that I’ve recorded many of my mom’s old family stories. I also made my mom and dad’s favourite meal for dinner.
My dad is wonderful, as always, he spends a lot of time just hanging out with the boys. They gravitate to him, as I always did. He’s quiet and introspective yet always available to help if asked, or to talk about the universe.
I would like to collect more of his stories as well. But my mom tends to step in and answer for him whenever I ask a question. It’s not intentional, of course, just an old habit.
Being with one’s parents can be wearing. I believe the reason is that we see ourselves objectively at last.
But there are lots of good moments as well.
My mom plays the piano beautifully. When I was a child, she passed on her musical skills to me as best as she could. What a gift!
Perhaps the moment I felt best in the day was when my eldest son picked up the bell I had bought from the monastery. It was covered in a fine layer of dust. My youngest son blew on it and a cloud went up; he coughed. Then my eldest boy asked me to make it sing.
A singing bowl, some call it, but the monks and nuns called it a bell. They would never “strike” the bell, but only “invite” it. Tapping lightly first, with the wand, then louder, letting it fully ring.
When I got home after the retreat, I also learned to invite the bowl to sing. To do this, I tap the edge, let it ring, follow the sound around the rim with the wand. If I tune in, I can follow the sound deeper and deeper till it is penetrating the room.
Sometimes, it is also nice to sing along with the bowl/bell.
That gives me a satisfying feeling in my heart.
Here is a link to the English translation of my favourite chant from the monastery:
Thank you so much for every way you have supported me on this journey, the past month… you made sobriety so much more fun and interesting and worthwhile. I love the feeling of community here.