I'm sitting at the computer starring at the screen. I've somehow convinced my brain that if I stare long enough, I'll come up with a fantastic plan. One that will magically give me more time. Or how to clone myself. I feel as if I'm running 10 days behind regular life. At this rate, I should be ready for Christmas by mid-January. And I'm contemplating throwing the to-do list away and painting my bathroom instead. I'm such a deep thinker.
With my thoughts racing and the TV buzzing in the background, I notice Daughter #2 round the corner and sit at the piano. I'm sitting still as a statue at the computer, so she doesn't notice me. If she did, she would flee in a nano second. She isn't one to perform in front of anyone. Nor does she really like having lengthy discussions (consisting of more than 12 words) with any blood related relative. So, I remain silent and just turn my head to watch her.
And she plays. And quietly sings along. Her attention soley focused on her moment of joyful living. And I am transfixed. Solid focus. On her. And suddenly, life becomes so very clear. This girl of mine is showing me what truth really looks like. And what it sounds like. As I watch her, this moment feels golden and magical, precious and real. Lists and errands float away on the wind.
She then turns her head and sees me. She smiles quickly and is off the bench and out of the room. But I am left, still at the computer. The place where I was trying to hold the world and slow down time just minutes ago.
And now, I smile too. The world still feels heavy in my arms and the list is still a mile long, but my focus has moved it's angle. The rushing, the stress and the doing don't feel so bold and central anymore. Life feels a bit more beautiful with her voice echoing in my head.
Just for a moment.
May we have the eyes to see the magic right before us.