It’s that time again. Time to throw out the rule book and the internal editors and get some words down. I’m joining in at Lisa-Jo‘s Five Minute Friday (feel free to click through to read the rules or join in yourself).
My mind wandered this week when his small hands pushed in my cheeks to the point of discomfort, wandered and wondered over the bigness his smallness brings. How small bends me low. How small makes me hush and listen. How small reminds me again and again and again that I am not above anything at all—not cleaning up vomit, not repeating an inane remark in a way that shows me to be less clever than I thought, not forgoing adult luncheons in order to avoid a missed nap. Small keeps me right close to the ground, to the dirt under my fingernails, to the pulsing reality of my beating heart that is dust to dust and ashes to ashes.
Small binds me close to home. Small brings me to the same room every night. Small rhythms and rhymes its way through my life with the same motions each day: the swipe of a table and the push of a vacuum and the point of the finger and the kiss of the boo-boo.
My maid of honor was taken on a whirlwind, twenty day trip of Europe this summer. Through the out-and-out grace of a college friend’s mother, she traveled to countries she may otherwise never have seen. She ate and slept and flew with glamour. (I think she does mostly everything with glamour.) And how there were lessons there. When everyone posted on her Instagram feed, “You deserve this!” I replied to my NYC-charter-school-math-teaching phenom of a friend, “You most definitely do not deserve this. Enjoy the grace.” Thankfully she knew what I meant and agreed. Yes, there are lessons when you are staying at a castle in France.
But the lesson I’ve been graced with today finds me on the same mattress and box spring night after night, pinching my pennies for a bed frame from IKEA (so close!). This lesson comes from holding small hands in my own and being awed by the height and depth and width of this life that stays mainly in 1200 square feet.