Sacred Mornings

Being a homeschooling mama, my days are filled from start to finish with my children. They are incredible and I love sharing these amazing moments of life with them, but I sure do appreciate easing into my day quietly and peacefully, before they burst out of bed full of chaos and mischief.

This morning I woke up as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. Heavy mist hung in the air, silver and sparkling in the early light. The birds were singing their songs of glory and everything else was quiet. For me, simply standing in silence at times like this is the greatest meditation and most profound prayer, a reminder of my smallness and my connection to everything on this wild Earth. It is an act of communion with our Mother, an opportunity to put ego in check and be open to all that life has to offer.

After my morning silence, I usually proceed to get the farm chores done before my children wake up. My farm chores are another form of meditation and also an opportunity for me to express my gratitude to the creatures I share my life with. I like to take my time, go slowly and notice every little detail. On this particular morning, my third child woke earlier than usual and asked if he could come outside with me. My first inclination was to sigh with a pang of disappointment at having my morning solitude broken, but the look on my child’s face obliterated all of that. He had a sleepy glow about him, a hopeful half-smile as he said in a croaky, half-asleep voice, “Mama, me come outside with you?” He looked so small and innocent and sweet as honey. How could I be annoyed at sharing my morning routine with this tender soul?

He accompanied me out and sat on a chair while I tended to the dogs. “Good morning, Juno!” my son exclaimed. “Mama, me love her. Me love Juno SO MUCH! And, me love Merlin. Me love Coby. Me love Oddler. Me love Diamond Thor. Me love them all a lot a lot a lot.” Yes, sweet child, I love them too.

The dogs were pretty thrilled to have one of their boys out with them. They smothered him in kisses, which elicited giggles and squeals. My son helped me feed them, feeling very grown up and responsible, and then I carried him piggy-back out to care for the horses.

The rest of the morning routine was filled with laughter and happy moments. My son witnessed a chicken laying an egg for the first time and was thrilled. He watched the horses drink from their water buckets, which fascinated him. Everything that has become predictable and routine for me in the early morning hours was brand new and exciting to my child, and seeing how delighted he was sparked all sorts of new appreciation for life inside of me.

When my child asked if he could come along this morning, I could have told him to wait for me in the house in attempts to preserve my sacred morning ritual, to keep it for myself. My first split-second reaction was to do just that. If I had, I would have robbed myself of an incredible gift, and my son would have missed those moments of joy. Instead, his innocent, enthusiastic presence made my special morning time even better, and I am grateful for the gifts my son gave to me this morning.