Peace

I can only speak from my own perspective: When you're a mother of three children under the age of five and your otherwise-very-helpful husband is out of town, you don't have a lot of time to yourself.

These circumstances don't change the need for a little peace in the day to maintain sanity. In fact, the fullness of this life makes it even more important for me to seek out and harness even the smallest moments to, well, not think.

I've lately become better at finding these quiet moments in the midst of the buzzing. And sometimes, letting my mind wander for a bit can be the only way to keep myself from getting trampled by the utter boringness of some of the things I have to do around here.

For example, when I'm taking care of laundry -- which I do constantly -- I can be outside, watching the kiddos in our fenced-in yard and take part in a pleasant aroma therapy session while I pin and fold lavender-scented undies and towels and drink in fresh air. It is pleasant, so long as the wind isn't blowing the jet-fuel fumes our direction. On those days I'm thankful for my dryer.





Sometimes I can tune out the din produced by circus shows and tumbling acts in the back yard if I have a seat in the sunshine and a mug of warm coffee to sip. I can also float easily over the pages of a picture book without disturbing my tranquil state. It's amazing how many sentences you can read without even hearing the words inside your head.




I find soothing quiet in my morning showers -- the ones that aren't interrupted by little fingers pulling back the shower curtain and asking to step in for some rain dancing.

There's also solace to be found in the car -- just sitting in the drivers' seat and watching the road as we commute between drop-offs and pick-ups and pick-ups and drop-offs. Everyone is buckled safely in his or her own compartment -- under relative control -- and I get to sit down for a while.

I don't mean to say that I'm mentally checked out for the better part of my days with the children. I certainly am engaged for a majority of it. But when it comes to handling the repetitive and the mundane, even the drudgery, I've managed to find a way to sometimes elevate those aspects of my job to a level of almost artful meditation.

This approach sure beats whining and complaining and stomping my feet about it, though I sometimes do that, too.