If I Knew How To Meditate...

...today would have been a great day to start.  A GREAT day to start.  For one, I had the shittiest night at work last night (I need to watch my mouth, I know, but that's the least of my concerns today.  Bear with me.)  Where was I?  Oh, yes...

The shittiest night at work.  For real.  And then I got home late.  Getting home late, I was still worked up over the day, so I went to bed late (think wee hours of morning late), but someone had to take Patrick to school today, so after only a couple of hours of sleep, one unnamed husband starts barking at me that I need to get up because he had a really busy day today and Patrick needed to get to school and I needed to pack up the other kids and had I made his lunch (?) and...need I go on?  It wasn't exactly how I wanted to start the day.  So, after my shittiest night of work, I was kind of pissed.

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
speaking words of wisdom; let it be.

So, I packed up my kids.  All of them.  And, thankful for the insight last night to pack Patrick's lunch before going to bed, we were out the door (most of us in our jammies) in less than 30 minutes.  Happily, I should add.  Though I was in a foul mood, I was determined not to ruin their day, so I put on a good face and sang along to songs I didn't really want to sing along with.  We were late (go figure), but we made it.  Safely.  And happily (again.)

But I was still feeling foul.

And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom: let it be.

And then my sister called, and not wanting to go home, I had the grand idea for breakfast.  Out.  At a diner we both love.  And though my half of the party was still in jammies with unbrushed teeth, we made plans to meet in 25 minutes.  And then there was that overturned semi.  And several detours through the guts of Westfield.  And I was further pissed.  And approximately 25 minutes late.  But still smiling.  Trying, anyway.  The best one can do on very limited sleep.
 

 

And when the broken-hearted people, living in the world agree
there will be an answer: let it be.

But the coffee was good, the oatmeal was better, the jalepeno jelly was absolutely divine, and the kids were well-behaved.  And I suddenly thought, "Things are not so bad.  It's time to chin up, cherub."  And we finished breakfast and found the cutest little shop, where the owners were courteous and gracious and didn't even seem to mind our jammies.  And we sauntered over to the town square (we have one of those!), where we got free trees (dogwoods!) and bid our parting ways.  It was almost noon.  Definitely time to change clothes and brush teeth.  And I thought maybe Adam was worried.  (But he wasn't.  He knows me.  He knows I was keeping my distance.)

 

For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
there will be an answer: let it be.

And I didn't mean for my mood to return once I got home.  I didn't.  But it did.  Because, I hadn't noticed the state of the house when I left.  And I came home to something like this:
 

 

And this:

 

"Mother trucker," I said out loud.  (No, really, I did.  See?  I do watch my mouth, even sometimes when the kids weren't around.)

I would have taken pictures of my own stacks of dishes and laundry, but I couldn't stand the sight long enough to actually capture the image.  I had to do something about it.  And, as I did, I grumbled.  With both little boys napping (sweet boys), I made a list of all the things that I was pissed about.  My own shortcomings at work the night before, Adam for any number of reasons (mostly for being so absorbed in work that he had forgotten about us...or so it seemed in my head), a few other things that I care to not mention publicly.  And, though I had tried to turn my day around, I still fell prey to the mood.  And the lack of sleep.  

 

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me.
Shine until tomorrow, let it be.

And that's not how I wanted my day to go.  I promise you, it isn't.  Even though I was tired, I really wanted a good day.  I really tried.  And, despite my mood, I sort of did have a good day.  Productive.  Social.  Really great for the kids.  (We had frozen yogurt with two toppings each on the way home from school.  That's a really good day around here.)  When I got home from picking up Patrick, I found a typed letter to me on the kitchen island.  A letter from my husband--apologizing for all of the reasons I had listed to myself why I was upset with him, because even though I like to think he's clueless, he's not completely.  He gets it.  Better than that, he gets me.  And rather than try to battle it out with me, he let me stew and deal with it my own way (which is, of course, stewing.)  And then he hung stuff on the walls for me, because that really does make me happy.

And I'm still tired and still a little grumbly, but I'm more at peace on the inside than I was this morning.  And without meditation (though still not a bad idea).  Why do I let myself get so worked up over nonsense?  Why do I let stacks of dishes and piles of laundry eat at me until I almost cannot stand it?  I do it because I can.  And that sucks.  But, at the end of the day, everything is good again.  Life is put back together.  And all that fuss was truly about nothing, because I had to do very little to get things back to how I like them.  I just had to (wait for it....)

Let it be.

Namaste, my friends.