Tonight, a little worn out from my new job, cooking dinner, washing a bit of dishes – and I just wanted to write and go within myself. Unleash the thoughts bottled up during work.
My little guy, he came in as I sat down. “Can you help me now?” he asked. “Help me clean my room and move the bed. I’ve got the Lego’s picked up.”
My illustrator, he likes his room organized. Sometimes, it explodes with all his creativity – and he just needs companionship to muddle through it.
I left my quiet time, fenced in those racing ideas – and followed my son, my illustrator. Not as though I had lost something or as though something was taken from me. Interaction was intentional, focused – on his words, his ideas, his goals – and the being together, the interaction.
In the fasting of self, true love grows, with seeds left over for sharing.
Unconditional love fasts self and counts it blessing.
Blue Cotton Memory 