So today I started my morning trying to meditate.  It is something I actually do every single morning of every single day.  However, the length of my meditation time is somehow broken more often than not lately by the pitter patter of “not so little anymore” feet!  So today was one of those days.  It began with a wake-up call at 7AM from my 9 year old who seems to think that “snuggling” means talking and writhing on my bed while he encourages Rizutto, the cat, to attack his feet under my bedspread.  Somehow, this was NOT what I had in mind when I decided to meditate upon waking in the morning.

Truly I envisioned myself waking gently to the sound of my carefully selected alarm, lighting my candles and reflecting on my dreams and visions from the night before.  I did not however envision myself fielding an argument about who’s turn it is to pick the incense stick, who gets to blow out which candle at the end, and retorts about who’s dream is most inventive.  These were not what I pictured as discussions that would develop around my bed in the wee hours of the morning.  For some odd reason I thought that my two boys would develop an appreciation for the spiritual practices that I follow just by watching my morning rituals.  I imagined that they would enter an enlightened Zen-like trance as we calmly discussed our dreams and their meanings from the night before.

Boy was I wrong.  But you know, the peaceful existence that I long for doesn’t mean that I must abandon my post as mom.  It does however mean that I must adjust my expectations so my mind does not begin its day with a meditation on the many frustrations that I could come up with in my life.

Recently I was challenged to not complain at all for 30 days.  I thought at first that I don’t complain, but now I think I have changed my mind.  I do complain, even though in a humorous and light-hearted way, but at times it still has the angst feel of a 17 year old on the verge of collapse.  Because, let’s be honest, this is at times how I have felt!  Instead of the complaint of my morning meditation being way-laid, I could change that to read that my meditation was enhanced by the imagination and vigor of my boys!  I could alter my whole perception of my morning ritual to include the idea that meditation does not have to look like my yogi self sitting in lotus pose, with candles flickering and soulful chanting being the only sound to enter the room.   It could look like my mommy self and my yogi self merging to enjoy the sounds of children being themselves and sharing the excitement of welcoming in the morning light in sacred space with me.

So, the challenge I present myself today is to allow myself the leeway to enjoy my children’s version of meditation, because as I have learned from so many moments in my life; my children’s version is usually very close to the Truth.