I was finishing up some work on my laptop when you cried. It was 10:22 pm. I wanted to read a chapter of my book after editing, but you needed me.
I laid with you in your small but cozy bed.
Your curly hair tickled and itched my skin.
You wouldn’t calm down until my face was smushed up against yours.
You wouldn’t relax until your body was tightly pressed to mine.
You needed me, and there I was.
You called, I answered.
You cried, I comforted.
I thought about the book I’m reading and how I wanted to get back to it.
I thought about how I was a little annoyed that I was inconvenienced in having to get up mid-essay editing.
I thought about how I was uncomfortable because I couldn’t move to get under the blankets—I know if I did, you’d start tossing and turning again.
But I was there, with you.
Why do I need to “get back” to things so quickly? I think because I often want to check something off my list or do what I want to do in the moment and maybe not always what I need to do.
Maybe I’m not always tuning in to my heart and listening closely to what I’m being called to do. Maybe cause doing that is often inconvenient. And can be uncomfortable.
I don’t know. But I think we have to slow down and listen to our intuition and what we’re being pulled toward. Where is our heart tugging us in this moment? What can we shift to make that a higher priority? What can we let go of?
Lucy’s bed was where my heart tugged me last night. Sunday night, I fell asleep at 8:15 pm. I told Colin I was gonna “lay down for a minute” and a minute turned into nine hours.
I was shocked when I woke up. I felt rested. I felt happy. My body told me I needed rest, and for once, I listened. I was proud of myself.
We know what we need. It’s just a matter of digging deep and listening in. I’m trying so hard to be intentional and focus in on what else my heart and mind and body are trying to tell me. It’s hard with the noise of life, but we can do it.
Sometimes that’s really the only thing we need to check off our list.