Where Did My Baby Go?

Just a few days ago - or at least that's how this time warp of motherhood makes it seem - she was a helpless little infant who didn't even know how to smile yet. Her needs were so simple. Sleep, milk, poop. Today, she's standing up on a step stool pretending to wash dishes in the kitchen.

Where do all the days go? And how is it that I've let so many of them slip away, squandering time like I've got an infinite supply. I've become more adept at savoring the moment, being here right now because I'm beginning to understand that truly there is nothing but this moment. I'm beginning to understand that someday all this will be done, that time will march on and I will no longer have a heart beating along with everyone else's.

Silly as it may sound, I'm surprised to be turning forty this year. Forty! As a kid, forty was ridiculously old. Forty seemed like you already had one foot in the grave. Forty meant that you were done. All the fun, all the crazy times were surely in your past. And here I am, peering over the precipice of the final days of My Thirties and taking in the view of the next decade, wondering how the time passed so quickly. What have I done with my precious time all these years? Besides desperately trying to change other people, wishing I were doing better or living somewhere else, or dreaming of a better life? Besides making excuses for not writing, running another marathon or starting a healthier diet? Besides dwelling on (and damning) The Past or dreaming of (and worrying about) The Future.

It's all right here, right now. Meditation surely helps gets this message across into the membranes. And hearing Sophia yell "wow!" as she pours water from a mini-watering can into the sink, fist pumping the air in truimph. It's an awesome gift to witness: the pure, simple things that bring her immense joy. Right now, she's saying "Happy! Happy! Happy!" over and over again. Unprompted, unabashed happiness. How did she get to be her own little independent self when just a short while ago she was bald and spitting up on my shoulder?

I came across this excerpt while surfing around the net just a few minutes ago. I've seen this one before and enjoyed it then, just as I've savored reading it this morning.

From A Short Guide to a Happy Life by Anna Quindlen, 2000

You are the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at your desk, or your life in the car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your HEART. Not just your bank account, but your soul.

People don’t talk about the soul very much anymore. It’s so much easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit. But a resume is a cold comfort on a winter night, or when you’re sad, or broken, or lonely, or when you’ve gotten back the check X ray and it doesn’t look so good.

Take a moment: Think about your resume, your resume of heart.

So I suppose the best piece of advice I could give anyone is pretty simple: GET A LIFE. A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger paycheck, the larger house. Get a life where you pay attention. Keep still. Be Present.

Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Each time I look at my diploma, I remember that I am still a student, still learning every day how to be human.