My daughter just got home from a two week farm apprenticeship. My son recently became a teenager and has started putting gel in his hair. The little one, thankfully, is content to be kicking his soccer ball in the yard and swinging on the swing.
I know this did not happen with the flip of a switch - they have been growing bigger and more independent since the very beginning. However, lately, it’s felt like they’ve been taking the stairs two at a time.
Or maybe that’s me - trying to catch up. Where did I forget to notice? Where did I go on autopilot?
We took this year abroad as a way to slow down the pace of our family life. I wanted more time together, to experience new things together, to be present for each other in a more intentional way. And I wanted a respite for myself. A respite from the chauffeuring, juggling, and multitasking that monopolized my days.
Some of those things have hit the mark. We spend our weekends at home or adventuring together. We’ve created some precious family memories. No one is running in six different directions. And we eat dinner together every night.
I am also feeling more centered with fewer things on my plate. I have time to read or knit or play a board game. I can also see more clearly what gets in my way in terms of being present with my kids, being productive with my work, being clear with my boundaries.
The reality is - even when I am present and intentional and slowing down, my kids continue to grow before my eyes.
I’m seeing in my mind’s eye, a video clip montage of their growing up. Videos at varying speeds and the sounds of a film reel in the background, as if we were watching home movies from the seventies. Piped in over the images is the voice of Jim Croce, singing “Time in A Bottle.”
Kinda corny, I know. And yet it grabs me.
I sit with the awareness that all I have is this moment.
I also sit with the awareness that I can have all of this moment.
I can have all of this moment - that means I get to soak in every detail - a backpack waiting to be put away, the rhythmic bouncing of a basketball in the driveway, snacks being pulled out with haste, sneakers thrown into the shoe corner, a cat being picked up and cuddled.
The years go so fast. The moments can last and last.
I will take the moments.
What are the moments for which you would like to be more present? What would it mean for you to "have all of this moment?"
I know this did not happen with the flip of a switch - they have been growing bigger and more independent since the very beginning. However, lately, it’s felt like they’ve been taking the stairs two at a time.
Or maybe that’s me - trying to catch up. Where did I forget to notice? Where did I go on autopilot?
We took this year abroad as a way to slow down the pace of our family life. I wanted more time together, to experience new things together, to be present for each other in a more intentional way. And I wanted a respite for myself. A respite from the chauffeuring, juggling, and multitasking that monopolized my days.
Some of those things have hit the mark. We spend our weekends at home or adventuring together. We’ve created some precious family memories. No one is running in six different directions. And we eat dinner together every night.
I am also feeling more centered with fewer things on my plate. I have time to read or knit or play a board game. I can also see more clearly what gets in my way in terms of being present with my kids, being productive with my work, being clear with my boundaries.
The reality is - even when I am present and intentional and slowing down, my kids continue to grow before my eyes.
I’m seeing in my mind’s eye, a video clip montage of their growing up. Videos at varying speeds and the sounds of a film reel in the background, as if we were watching home movies from the seventies. Piped in over the images is the voice of Jim Croce, singing “Time in A Bottle.”
Kinda corny, I know. And yet it grabs me.
I sit with the awareness that all I have is this moment.
I also sit with the awareness that I can have all of this moment.
I can have all of this moment - that means I get to soak in every detail - a backpack waiting to be put away, the rhythmic bouncing of a basketball in the driveway, snacks being pulled out with haste, sneakers thrown into the shoe corner, a cat being picked up and cuddled.
The years go so fast. The moments can last and last.
I will take the moments.
What are the moments for which you would like to be more present? What would it mean for you to "have all of this moment?"
 | Jessica Curtis is a professional coach who helps people cultivate intention and live from a place of meaning and authenticity. If you think you could benefit from working with Jessica or want to invite her to work with your group, reach out to start a conversation. |
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