I’ve been waking up early in the morning to do a morning routine for ages now. The routine has changed and evolved, but the habit has stayed with me. I’ve been even doing it on holidays, in the weekends, during times I felt sick or tired – I adjusted it to fit the occasion. It has felt like a solid foundation for my day all these years.
I still wake up and do the routine, but lately, the solidity of this foundation has been feeling weak. It’s felt like it’s been crumbling. I find myself having extreme difficulty with focusing. My mind wanders all the time. On top of it, my kids, who’ve been home from school because of the pandemic and spending 24/7 with me, are waking up earlier and earlier and coming into my room while I’m trying to practice.
I can feel that they are seeking comfort. Of course they do. Even though they don’t know details of what’s going on in the whole world, I’m explaining them why we need to stay home and it’s not like a holiday. They also feel the energy of uncertainty, while me and my husband are still figuring things out.
So it’s already hard for me to keep my focus on my practice even when I’m in my room alone and the kids are sleeping. But now, there are kids in the room, fidgeting, whispering and asking questions. Having them around makes it even more difficult to settle into a meditative state, even after all these years of practice.
My heart is torn between letting them “watch and learn” how I start my days, and sending them away, so I can at least have a chance to soothe my own worries first thing in the morning and start the day right.
I’m torn between the choices for days, before I finally start to pour my heart onto the pages of my journal. In the midst of all the uncertainties and uprooted routine, I simply forgot for over a week, how invaluable my journaling practice is for keeping my mind calm and clear, and with it to keep returning to my center. And this is exactly what happens, when I finally decide to journal about my fears and doubts.
I decide to talk to my boys and lovingly explain that I need the alone time in the morning, so I can be fun during the day. I choose what first felt like shutting a door on leading with example: I create boundaries around my morning practice. And as I do this, I realize that I can always do a little extra session during the day, where I can involve them as well.
They are not exactly happy to leave, but I believe that deep down they understand. I need my foundation, so I can be a more centered mom and human being. Now more than ever, my practice is a lifeline for keeping my head cool.
After they leave, I pick up my morning routine again, complete with journaling. Even if I get distracted a million times, I always have the choice to return. Even when my focus is scattered, when my mind is filled with worries, even if I need to stop half way and tend to some problems. I choose to keep practicing.
Our True Nature 