From my journal, Friday, May 25, 2012 — Another week nearly gone. On my lap, a three-month-old baby — sleeping now with his head against my chest. How is it that so much time has passed already?
Except as it always does — day by day by day.
Sometimes I catch my mind rushing ahead to whatever is supposed to happen next and next and next.
So I stop my mind and place it in the moment — and then the moment seems to pass so painfully, painfully slowly.
But isn’t such mindfulness the secret to finding more time in the day — more time in my life — more time with the children, who are growing so quickly, quickly?
Why the pain in slowing down — why the boredom, the malaise?
If I’ve found the secret to having more time with my loved ones — why do I resist?