Still

As soon as Kenji was gone, it was like he had never been home at all. The bed wetting, the fighting and competitiveness, the noctural inconsolable cries and the mealtime drama's: they all popped up so easily that I wondered whether they had ever been gone for good.
Being torn between a wounded Kenji and two raging boys for yet another period of hospitalization. Been there, done that.

With this week's Rohatsu (an intensive meditation retreat) in mind, I aimed to find more time to practice. To join my sensei and fellow Zen practitioners all over the world in silence. Yet the duality of the situation and the gravity of the demands on both sides ate away my good intentions. On waking this morning I pondered on the word 'silence': if I couldn't seek out silence, at least I could be still. I could be still and look within.

And when I honestly faced my inner self, I saw that my reactions were so similar to those of the boys. I too had been angry and irritable ever since Kenji was forced to leave. Dumbfounded and scared. How we all were the same!
I asked Big Brother what he would pick if he could have anything in the whole wide world. "A happy mama", he answered in a split second. Little Brother added: "For me? Cookies, right!?" We kissed and made up.