Tonight I couldn’t sleep. I woke at 2:30 am and lay in bed, then throught I may as well get up. This happens to me sometimes, and I find it best to read or even knock off an item or two on my todo list until I get tired again. There were no demons this time, just sleeplessness. I went downstairs and on a whim opened the front door of the house. I stepped outside. We have a small courtyard in front with a stucco wall around it, a couple of lawn chairs and a huge magnolia tree. I sat down. From that perspective you can’t see the neighboring houses over the wall, just sky. An infinity courtyard, more or less. I looked up into the tree. One or two stars were poking through the branches. The air was fresh and cold. I could hear cars, but not often.
What has this to do with fatherhood? Nothing. Everything.
I could feel Nick and Nora sleeping behind me. It reminded me of Danse Russe, the William Carlos Williams poem. The thing is, if there’s no spaciousness in my life, then I have none to offer Nick. A todo list isn’t enough to connect me to the things of this world, to my place in it. I need to feel myself here in my body. God peeking through the magnolia tree in front. Nick and Nora behind. Myself in the middle and awake.
It was unbearable, really. I sat there as long as I could stand it, until the urge to write it all down overpowered me, and I went back inside.
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You might enjoy: 7 minimalist lessons I’ve learned from my kids
Painting credit: The reproduction above is “The Empire of Light” by Rene Magritte. I had to to look at it long and long the first time before I understood what made it so weird. It’s a daytime sky. But it’s night around the house.
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I like what you wrote. Reminds me of this: “We are bigger than our schedules.” radical Brazilian educator Paulo Freire
Man plans, God laughs. (Yiddish proverb.)
THere’s nothing like pondering the mysteries of the universe in the middle of the night and affirming how insignificant we are to put things into perspective. Love the Magritte picture – I would have never noticed that it was actually night with a daytime sky….
And the great thing about the Magritte is it looks exactly like our house.
Kidding!
I came across your use of the phrase “spaciousness” a few hours ago. And it stuck. And I came back here, to the connection you are making to the spaciousness you need and your capacities for everything else that is required of you.
There’s something here I need to learn, to absorb. Something women (I believe), generally, have difficulty with. Even a few minutes of that “unbearable infinity” would be empowering, enriching.
I will come back, read again, see if this seeps in further. That spaciousness is both tangible and needs to be internalized somehow, but I don’t know how. Or what this means. Not quite yet.
Women and men do everything a little differently, so I suppose it applies to sitting as well. Maybe you’d like the poems of Mirabai …
Lovely post – I could imagine myself sitting there.
I recognized a long time ago that I need that “spaciousness” and my kids are the same way. I hope I gave them the gift of allowing themselves to recognize the need.
That painting – the day sky yet appearance of night near the ground – that’s what my photographs look like in the morning. A beautiful blue sky with white clouds, but night’s shadow still covering the road and trees. I bet there’s a hill just outside the frame of that painting!
Readers may want to see Barbara’s post on a similar subject, and some of her photos: Cinnamon Toast and Puzzle Pieces
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