They are home at last, both sons. And I’m perched here at the kitchen table, for about two brief minutes before the potatoes boil (three men in the house–grilled steaks and mashed potatoes for dinner). All afternoon, I thought there would be an hour or so to sit down and write my weekly blog post, but I’d forgotten how quickly a day flies by when there is no time to gaze out the window, daydreaming sentences. I can tell already that the rhythms are going to be different around here this summer; it may take me a while to adjust. My yoga mat sits untouched on the floor between the living room and the kitchen. I haven’t answered a single email, or meditated, or gotten back to the guy who wants to schedule a reading, or glanced at the front page of The New York Times.
But I’ve made several rounds of breakfast, taken a run with Henry, done a huge load of grocery shopping, washed lots of sheets and soggy towels, heard detailed synopses of the latest episodes of “The Office,” bought two quarts of freshly picked strawberries at the farmer’s market, cut peonies and irises from the garden, set the porch table, cooked a welcome-home feast for Jack. I can’t quite believe that it’s dinner time already, that I feel this tired, and that I never got any “real” work done today, let alone a downward dog or a long deep breath. And I feel renewed admiration for every woman who manages a busy household, and still finds time to write and read and think. For every woman who works outside the home, and manages to take care of the people in the home as well. For all the women who juggle way more than I do — raising children and earning a living and tending to those in need — and who nevertheless also honor their commitments to themselves and their inner lives.
The soul work we do is so subtle, so easily postponed to another day, so low, sometimes, on the list of priorities. There is always so much that must be done, that we tend to let go of those things that feel like self-indulgent extras. It seems impossible, at times, to find room in our busy, demanding lives to allow for silence and solitude and regeneration. Today, there’s been more hustle and bustle and conversation going on in these rooms than we’ve seen in months. There are piles everywhere. Plans being made, tennis rackets and shoes proliferating, dirty glasses filling the sink. I’m sort of amazed at how much sheer space they take up, these grown boys of mine.
And yet, tonight feels like a party. My three favorite people in the world are right here: husband, two sons. At least I have the presence of mind to pay attention, to be grateful, to remember that this really is IT: the life I have, the best life there is, the present moment.
Enough time to tell you that I love you, every word you write and even the ones unwritten.
So beautiful.
I love the image of soul work as subtle … easily postponed … but how treacherous it is (at least for me) to do so for an extended period of time.
I am glad for the opportunity to glance into your celebration evening, and can feel even through your words the fullness of your home and your heart now.
xox
I’m with Lindsey: I love the idea of the subtlety of soul work. When I used to work as a career counselor, I often saw clients who had just left a job and hadn’t yet started another. They were so anxious to move onto the next thing, but there was soul work to be done before the "real" work could be done. "But I’m not DOING anything," they’d complain. "Yes you are," I’d say. "Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you’re not working." This, to me, is what’s so difficult about soul work: it is important, it takes times and energy, and yet we dismiss its importance because we can’t see its tangible results. But it is the most critical work we’ll ever engage in.
I’ll third Lindsey and second Elizabeth.
Why is it that the "being" is harder to do than the "doing"?
Maybe Frank had it wrong… maybe it should be "be-do-be-do- be do"
Blessings to you and your family. Be with them and enjoy.
Yes, that line grabbed me too. And your words are like a balm on my soul, especially this week when I have felt a little too precariously that tension between the Must-do’s and the Want-to-do’s. But hope remains: in family dinners, in beautiful words, and, for me, in tomorrow morning’s yoga class. Thanks, Katrina. Enjoy your full house.
Katrina, I second everyone else’s comments–being vs. doing. I admire all the women out there doing and being and sharing their thoughts and feelings with the world. You are one of those people, and I marvel at the way you express yourself in writing. Your words bring me to the present moment in my life, as a mother, reminding me of the importance of what I am doing when I feel no "real work" is getting done, as you mentioned…It is real work, it just isn’t always a tangible "thing"–something that can be crossed off a list.
A pile of gratitude to you, Katrina, for taking a moment to share your reflections here, in the midst of your welcome-home-doings. Wishing you "piles" : ) of summer moments with your three favorite people.
Lisa, Steps & Staircases
Katrina, I am so glad that you have your loved ones around you again – cherish the time together, as it will fly by faster than you can imagine. Your post was very apropos for me as we took our daughter back to college this morning for a summer internship. I cannot believe the sadness I feel because she will not be here to share the respite from the routine that summer offers us, but I am grateful that she was here for three weeks and will return for a short time before her fall semester begins. For me, the "doing" is very heartening, albeit tiring and at times, mundane. But there is a sense of peace and well-being as I make the lives of those I love more comfortable, easier, more complete. The "being" for me is in the act of doing. But I also realize that the "being" for my soul comes much harder, and perhaps that is why I don’t give it the attention it deserves.
I treasure the simplest of summer’s offerings, from the fireflies dancing under the tree branches, to roasting marshmallows over the dying coals of the grill, to the refreshing taste of sweet, juicy watermelon. I wish many, many moments of such joy to you and your family. Have a wonderful summer!
It is healthy for me to have friends with kids in the next phase of life. It reminds me to cherish the pile of shoes I trip over every time I come in the door, instead of hollering upstairs for teen daughter to come retrieve at least eight of her pair from the pile. It reminds me that ‘having’ to think about what’s for dinner every, yes every, stinkin’ day at three o’clock is a gift I will miss some day. 🙂
Hubby and I watched the movie "It’s Complicated" together last night. Or at least we watched it in snippets, as kids kept passing through the living room, asking for rides to friends houses and permissions for going places the next day. But there was one scene that almost brought me to tears. There is a moment when all the kids (early 20s) drive away and the mom walks into her very quiet house, shakes her head as she sees dirty dishes laying around, but is so melancholy at the quietness of it all…..I can’t even imagine that day and yet its so close to us. I literally turned to Jeff and said, "I could just cry right now..watching this scene…"
He smiled his knowing, patient smile, and it reminded me that I wont truly be alone. We will cry those tears together. Or at least he’ll be patient as I cry my portion. 🙂
Beautiful post, Katrina. Enjoy those boys for as long as these moments last.
Judy
justonefoot.blogspot.com
"Tennis rackets and shoes proliferating. Ha!
This post is so beautiful in its honesty. And in a way, it’s reassuring – because even you struggle with this, with fitting *me* into my days. Some days are meant to be more like a party, where we are busy and the house is full and we just don’t have time to center ourselves. But we wouldn’t have it any other day, to have the whole family home. And tomorrow perhaps extra downward dogs and sun salutes!
Hello Katrina,
My name is Lori Gardner and I will be announcing you and your wonderful book tmw at the luncheon at Angelicas. I was wondering if you could let me know how many books you have written and where you are originally from. I am very excited to meet you at the luncheon tmw.
Thanks, Lori
Just recently found your blog as I do my own personal soul excavations. I have two young boys at home (both under 4) and there is so little time for quiet. But I’m working on it and as I do I’m seeing the potential and opportunity unfold. It’s really quite exquisite. So much so that I’m questioning why it took me so long to get here. Thanks for this post, I’ll be back often to read more!
I find your words as the clock ticks late and emails await and at the same time a watermelon sits ripely on the island with the laptops and the peaches and a vase of flowers and I feel blogging winding down and summer enveloping… one kid learning to drive but the other building a soap-box car, garden lights and popsicles and checking in with each other here to reaffirm being present to the yoga of every ordinary and sublime day. Namaste