“Mommy.” “Mommy!” “Mommy!!!” The word can be the most precious sound to hit my ear drums or the most mind grating trigger word in the dictionary.
It has been a weekend of errands, travel from Point A to B and back, then to Points C, D, and E. Our littlest family member has been a bear under his mop of blonde hair and sweet little eyes demanding “Eat”, “Water.” “Mommy hold me.” In the continuance of our novel of first world problems, the wash machine had been broken for weeks and now fixed but for the annoying chirping noise it screamed as it struggled to keep up with mountain of laundry thrown at it.
The dishwasher took a lesson from the wash machine and has taken its own spring break. I think you fall into two camps of dishwasher users when the dishes don’t come clean… the first being the ones that take the dirty bowl realizing it is not clean and use the pioneer approach of soap, water, and their own hands to clean said dish OR the second, the one that realize the bowl is still full of scum and just throw it back into the dishwasher again…and maybe again… and again. I fall in the second camp so the dishes have emerged as their own life force from the sink as I admitted dishwasher defeat.
All this added up to an exhausting weekend….so when the need to check the animals emerged I grabbed my camera, muck boots, and coat and headed out. Spring had offered a glimpse of its return but was kicked out of the picture today by big, wet snow flakes.
It was magical…heavy, wet flakes fell upon my head only to melt and run to my eyes. The scene was quiet aside from the crunch of my boots and paws of my side kick, Brody. Occasionally, I would hear and feel the sloush of the soft mud and puddles below the accumulating snow as a remembrance of spring that had been present just hours before.
It was if I had entered my own snow globe… a globe of calm without kid’s demands or visual reminders of my inadequacies as a housekeeper, or racing thoughts of my inability to heal my patients. I felt peace, a clearing of mind as the snow fell, hypnotizing all in its presence. I remember as a child, holding the heavy globe in my hand mesmerized by the perfect little scene made magical by a shake of my hand. I entered my own snow globe and dared not leave.
In my world of phone dings and anxious thoughts, laundry and dishes I found a moment of peace. I hope in this week ahead you can find your own moments of peace.
“Peace. It doesn’t mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart.”
1 thought on “She entered the snow globe and dared not return.”