bella and cedar, living in the moment of their connection, canon 50d
Yesterday I was feeling a bit melancholy and struggling with living in the present. I was curled up on my couch, looking out the window, wanting to be somewhere else.
Somewhere colder, crisper, strolling my son down streets with funky boutiques and cafes and culture. I wanted to be in Victoria, B.C...heading from downtown towards my cute cottage of a house. A cottage near the sea and surrounded by tall trees.
Then I glanced over at Cedar and there he was completely fascinated with this plastic cover for a storage tray. He held it up to the light, pursed his lips, brightened his eyes, observing all its lines and curves. He was fully living in the present. Not longing for the past or wishing for the future. He was so in the moment.
So, I lifted him up and brought him outside with me. I found a tree to sit under with him. I told him I was struggling, that I wanted to be more in the moment like he is. He gazed in my eyes and tickled my face with his fingers and what I saw in him was complete acceptance. He reminded me to accept where I am. To revel in it. Not to push it away or attach any shame to it. So, I surrendered and whispered out loud to our tree all of my wishes of cool air and Victoria and ocean and trees and cottage.
Then something really cool happened. I felt like it was released and not so tightly wound inside of my soul. Like I've done my part in wishing and hoping and manifesting for the moment and I could let go and trust that my desires are there for a reason. So the remainder of our time under the tree, I was observing the leaves swish back and forth, feeling the softness of my son's hand in mine, watching the cars drive to and fro down below the hill. And I realized something. I was suddenly living in the moment. So, I lifted Cedar up, touching his nose to mine and thanked him for being a little Buddha and bringing me back to center. He is so good like that.