Claudia reflects on the challenges of starting the day slow and early amidst anxiety about interruptions. A difficult morning reminds her of the priorities of motherhood, leading to a shift in perspective and a focus on being fully present. Journaling and Japan chats are scattered among motherhood things.

alas — falling back into a slow morning

Up at five am and ready to scribe. Watching the body of my little stir on the monitor. “If you’re up, I’m up!” I know he hears us downstairs and wants to take part. Hard to enjoy the process of my morning silence when I am anxious about how long it may last. Hard to focus on the task at hand when I am focused on this screen, listening to every suck of the soother, every stir in the bed. I read a sample of a book yesterday that said, Where in your life do you tend to rush? How does rushing serve you? What might you be missing out on by rushing?

I tend to rush when my son is asleep and I know I am on-the-clock. Rushing here doesn’t truly serve me, I serve the rush. I miss out on a true experience to enjoy the moment to myself because I’m so focused on when it will end. Like now, it looks like he’s fallen asleep rather deeply and yet I continue to click the button of the monitor to check and make sure. Why? He is silent and I have a moment, so why don’t allow myself to fully sink into the moment and enjoy it? Because I hear that suck-suck-sucking again and look, and he’s stirring. How could I possibly sink into this silent moment with this anxiety in my spirit? Now I even hear him making a fuss in his sleep and my anxiety is amplifying. Will this fade away as I continue the practice or will it forever be tainted by this lingering feeling of, “I will not be free for much longer“? I even fear blowing my nose.

In regards to waking, it was easy. I am a morning person. My alarm clock is rather wonderful with regards to the slow wakeup; I found I was already quite awake from the light it emits and then the softened bird sounds was just the icing on the wakeup cake. It wasn’t abrasive, it was gentle and I found myself enjoying it, only rushing to turn it off so that it didn’t travel into the baby’s room. Much better than my husband’s alarm on his phone, that’s for sure. When I am not shaken awake by the needs of someone else, I enjoy being awake early and enjoy the quiet morning. I always have. Early morning journaling, reading, and spiritual practice is not a new thing for me; I’ve been doing it and loving it for ages.

starting with the wrong mug and reflecting on transitions

My husband served my coffee in a mug that doesn’t resonate today. He handed it to me and it wasn’t the one I set out on the counter. My entire body seemed to say no as I grabbed it, but, pressed on time, I thanked him and got back to this screen. This is the first full day where we are back to our regular routine. My husband starts his new job and he’s excited like a kid starting a new year at a new school. I am happy for him – and thankful for the sacrifices he makes for our family – but am also grateful that we only have today, Friday, to practice this new routine. I cannot imagine that after three months of dada, R will settle into this loss. It is fun to see how different he is with both of us, how much braver he is with his father, how much more focused on impressing him he is. With me, he is soft and vulnerable. He wants help, he wants hugs, he wants me on the floor and present in the play. With dad, he can sit back and look at how awesome R is, from afar; he just wants to perform for him.

To break up the day, by the suggestion of my husband, we will pass on the car show. I’m going to go thrifting and hopefully leave with a bit more of a mom-focused haul (if I’m lucky), as well as grabbing a few items for his Ostara/Easter basket. Thrifting is just the pick-me-up that I’ll need today. Then, to balance this off, I will take R to his favourite climbing place; just what he needs to pick up his spirit today, too.

I’m trying to determine what my layout of focus will be on these early mornings, should I get lucky enough to have this time before R decides he wants to join the fun (we are at 30 minutes so far, and with very squeaky stairs that never guarantee a win when we sneak down them, that’s incredible). I will be unable to begin with the meditation or contemplative minute that is suggested in Miracle Mornings because, as you can see, my anxiety and worry of this ending soon is far too high. Writing is obviously the best thing to focus on as I start the early, slow morning adventure with me. Reading may be a difficult focus if my mind continues to glance at the monitor screen with anticipation, but perhaps I could get a page or two in. Creative journaling, though it tugs on my heartstrings, would be too extensive for a morning routine and is best saved for evenings.

japan and journaling

We have been watching a show on Disney+ lately called Shogun and it’s like a Japanese Game of Thrones (with less gore). It’s phenomenal. I’m absolutely hooked. Not only is the storyline brilliant, the acting and scenery phenomenal, but it takes place in ancient Japan (though actually filmed in BC lol) and that is my favourite country on the planet. In October 2018, I went to Tokyo, Japan on my own; a bucket list item that I fulfilled shortly after I moved to Paris, France on my own, and before having met my (now) husband. The linked blog explains everything I love about Japan, but another thing that I absolutely adore about Japan is its commitment to writing.

It values traditional writing despite being also immensely technologically advanced, and it has the best stationary in the entire world. It’s known for its extensive stationary of the highest quality and with the coolest features. When I went in October 2018, I wasn’t creative journaling; collecting items to journal with in a 9m2 apartment on the top floor of a two century old building is not really practical. There’s no space to collect, and there’s not much space to work. One of my regrets, despite this, is not going to Japan with the intent to stock up on their stationary. I missed out on so many opportunities and so many wonderful stores that I obsessively watch hauls of, on YouTube, now.

I also love that the spirituality of Japanese people is infused in absolutely everything. Every action, every detail, the way they live, the way food is prepared and served, the products they sell and how they’re presented, the way peaceful pockets of nature are found deep within city alleys – it’s just so central to their identity and you can feel it. You truly feel the energy of spiritual Awareness and Alignment when you are there, even when you’re in a busy and bustling city like Tokyo. Mindfulness exists in everything the Japanese people do. That’s the best way to live. It’s the most authentic way to be. Even their journaling is mindful. While they do have a pretty toxic work culture (work till you die! work always!), all other aspects seem to make it an ideal place for mothers and children, especially how accommodating they are in public spaces for babies (maybe best for visits and not for living).

I organized all my stationary last night while watching an episode of Shogun with my husband and I have an incredible collection of ephemera. I wonder if it would interest other awakened mamas to see what I have and what I enjoy journaling with. Would it be worth a Reel on Instagram, I wonder? Or is that off-niche? Let me know in the comments if you’d be interested. Anyway, my collection really inspiring and I hope it helps me focus on using what I have so I’m not tempted to get more. The only thing I need is a new journal – I hate diving into a half-filled journal when I begin a new project in a new year. But we are at the first of March and I like the synchronicity of that alignment with interest + new beginnings, so if I don’t find a proper and worthy journal while I’m out today, I’ll be going through my stash and working with what I have.

I found a whole bunch of old creative journals of mine – some so full they don’t even close – and majority of them start in March. How odd am I, to be so perfectly in-sync, yearly? It absolutely freaks me out when I think about it more and I wonder if there’s some spiritual reason for it. I need to dive deeper, here…

grace and gratitude

It’s now 6h20 and I spent my fifteen first minutes of writing worrying about my son waking up. He’s still asleep. I was even able to pause and take a shower. I’d like to spend a moment extending gratitude to the Universe for reminding me that there will always be time for me, and to trust my son knows what his body needs – and what I need – so I can focus on the moment I have and not worry about losing it. Thank you to God for teaching me that seconds spent on anxiety and stress over aspects of my life where I have no control – such as my son waking when he wills it – are moments completely wasted, opportunities for true growth and true centered focus lost. I will not take advantage of any second of them, tomorrow. I will not spend my precious slow morning hyper-focused on a monitor instead of on my internal self and my spirit.

This is a lesson learned. I had more than one full hour to me – how lucky am I? And naptime still awaits! How blessed I am this morning, on the first day my husband returns to his new normal. My son spent three months waking at 5h, likely too excited to have two parents to himself every day, and today – the day I need it most – he stays asleep. We are soul-connected, this is unquestionable, but his soul-wisdom is beyond my comprehension sometimes. He knew what I needed and granted it to me. I am so thankful, and will enter his waking moments not thinking of a morning to me that is gone, but rather thanking the morning he has gifted me. Thank you, Source – thank you, my son.

I also want to mention that I haven’t touched my phone since waking. I haven’t scrolled Instagram. I haven’t mindlessly opened Facebook. I didn’t even check my messages. Sometimes I feel like the Universe cuts things short for me when I start mindlessly scrolling, like a lesson learned on time wasted. In addition, digesting the emotions of others or responding to messages before I first have a gentle morning getting to know the me who has Awoken this morning is not fair to me. We have a relationship with ourselves, with our spirit, and it deserves being honoured.

Though, I must say, today I wondered when I blab on here, in this space, about anything and nothing at all, about motherhood and things completely unrelated, I do wonder if I am speaking into the abyss or if people scroll by and think irrelevant to me. I have read that when you blog, you need to make content that is relevant to others to pull them in but I don’t know how to write to sell, to pitch, to funnel people down into my rabbit hole of services – to offer content that leads to sales. But the only way I know how to write is authentically, honestly, and openly, and without intention of conversion. I am just pouring out me on these “pages” instead of in a physical journal because maybe, just maybe, someone will see themselves in them, or be inspired by them, or be pulled to a certain book, activity, or plan because of them, and then we can share in that and become a community of authentic moms living their authentic, slow, quiet, mundane lives. Because this is not a momfluencer account; you just get me, as I am – not manufactured, not perfect, not crisp and recorded with the most expensive equipment. Just me, like this.

It is now 6h45 and my husband has left for work; first morning will be an early one. R will not get to see him until the evening if he is lucky (and based on this wakeup time, he should be) – this could be bad or this could allow for an easier transition, time will tell. I could certainly get used to mornings like this. I love them, in fact. They feel like they’re mine again, not scheduled according to the needs of anyone else. A little fragment of my identity outside of mother – my greatest identifier, let us not forget, but still necessary to expand my soul beyond it. My husband seemed to imply that he wants to meet for lunch, so perhaps plans will be shifted this afternoon. It is more important to allow my son time to see his dad than for me to cater to the call of the thrift.

R is sitting up in this crib and will definitely call for mama soon. Gratitude to Source for gifting me this morning on this hard day, as we all settle into our new normal. I am so very lucky, and this does not go unnoticed. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

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releasing the entire load onto mama – on day one

I should have known that something about this morning was too good to be true. I should have known that I was graced with the hour plus before the dawn because something was coming. After three months of a boy who had few grumpy moments and many joyous moods, I was given the motherload (pun intended) of bad days. I can quite honestly say that the mood he was in right now was probably the worst he’s ever been in – ever. He is clearly teething because the gnawing on his hands, endless drool, flushed cheeks, and screaming (not crying, screaming – like I’ve never heard him scream before) indicate pain. He’s still crying as he sleeps, gasping as he breathes over the monitor.

It took over two hours to get him to sleep, not because he was boycotting the nap, just because he was so uncomfortable. At one point, I even thought to myself that no nap would be happening so I brought him downstairs only to be met with pure rage and endless yawns. I tried everything – rocking, swaying, in the chair, standing up, holding his hand, caressing his face. In the end, the only thing that worked was just letting him lay in his crib until he screamed himself to sleep while I sang him his favourite lullaby (the River Song from Prince of Egypt — my little Moses with his curls).

While I was laying next to the crib and hoping he would get some rest, quite honestly, I was anxious. I thought to myself (selfishly), there goes my writing time, even though I was graced with the opportunity to write in the morning. I then realized that my anxiety was likely felt by my son (soul-connection, after all) and I tried to calm myself down by meditating and slowing my breathing. Om Mani Padme Om, Om Mani Padme Om, Om Mani Padme Om… As I did that, I realized: this is just a lesson in priorities and in patience.

Yes, my needs are a priority, but they were fairly met this morning. Right now, my son and his pain is a priority. Motherhood is about sacrifice — period. Sometimes – and usually when we are least willing to release our hold – we are called to bend (and often break) for our child. It could have taken two hours, three hours, four hours, or the entire afternoon; he was giving me the full load of his pain and it was my responsibility to carry it. What’s more important: sitting at a computer and writing to release, or being fully present and allowing my son to release? The answer was clear and my anxiety faded. I knew that it was a matter of being patient, now, about allowing R to go through what he was going through and to transition into the land of sleep on his own time, when he was ready to let go of the earth-pain and allow himself some solace toing the line of aether.

I’m so glad he’s asleep now. Not so I can write here and watch YouTube videos, but for his own sake. I was ready to put him in the car and drive around until he fell asleep but I knew the transition to the car seat would have made him more miserable and distressed. I’m glad he was able to do it on his own in his bed. But because of this state he is in, I won’t be bringing him to the climbing park. He’s uncomfortable and I want that to be his happy place. We will go thrift and walk around outside the area (it’s lovely) so he can get some fresh air.

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I started to read Miracle Mornings for Writers only to discover it is, quite literally, the exact same book but… with writer thrown in, occasionally. I truly hate when authors or life coach-ers view making money as more valuable than being authentic with their audience. He has rebranded the same message and the same idea and the same steps for multiple “job titles” which is so scam-my and it’s why I didn’t resonate with the book in the first place. You don’t need to sell me on something that’s heart-centered, life-changing, and authentic. It will sell itself if it’s True. I knew there was reason it didn’t settle well in my spirit.

R hasn’t moved positions in an hour. He has clearly fallen into a deep exhausted space. He deserves the rest. I was debating keeping this open until the evening, but I have not much left of me to share here. No photos captured today, either and for that, I apologize as I know it helps break up the text and makes the reading experience more enjoyable.

Where has this week gone? Where has February gone? Are you just as lost as I am?

What are your highs and lows of the month? Tell me in the comments!

Highs for me:
– enjoying the last month with my husband at home
– our birthdays and celebrating each other (me and hubs)
– All my new books from this month
– R running (a quick transition from running)
– R learning so many words, numbers, and showing off his letter sounds
– Going to CERN
– Visiting Lausanne
– The adjustments I have made to meal planning and grocery shopping, and how much money we are saving because of it (and how much less stressed mealtime is for me, as well)

Lows for me:
– Today’s painful cries
– The number of explosive diaper incidents and dirty laundry from teething
– The cold at the start of the month (always have one around my birthday; energetic clearing)

xx C

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This is an easy one: leaving teaching, embracing my clairaudient mediumship gifts completely, writing my first book and sharing the world, and most importantly – moving to Paris, meeting my husband, and having my son.