Friday, January 20, 2012

Guest Post: Living in the Moment

Today, I get to host the beautiful Gina from Oaxacaborn. I'm always pleasantly surprised when I find kindred spirits through social networks. She is one of them. On a dark day last fall, she sent me words from a song that have since been sparks in my soul. And now, I consider her a friend. (Someday we will meet and I will hug her and everything will feel right.) So when we talked about her guest posting on my blog, I gave a resounding... YES PLEASE. She's a mama, with a beautiful soul, doing good work for the country of Uganda, and she pours part of her heart out here for us. Enjoy:

I'm staring. It's that time of the afternoon where all I want is another cup of coffee, but Aveline's bedroom is right off the kitchen. She's the world's lightest sleeper; if I even think about that cup of coffee too loudly, I know she'll hear me & wake up.

There is a pot of white beans simmering on the stove. I'll add some sage and garlic in a bit. I'm not sure why I bought white beans. I nearly always cook black beans -- black beans with onion, garlic, lime, jalapeƱo, and cilantro. Once upon a time, when I lived in my beautiful California, I added epazote, too. It grew wild around my front step.

But here, here in the land of my sojourn, here in soggy Florida, there is no epazote outside the front door. There are ruddy chipped bark pieces, all neat and packed in around the landscaped shrubs. I'm thankful for the maintenance crew, but I kind of ache for the ruggedness of California's own dried up star thistle and manzanita.

Aveline knows of no such ache. To her wide eyes, the world is a marvelous place, and everywhere she turns, she is filled with wonder.

We went for a walk today. She won't be one for another nine days -- not that I'm counting -- so our walk was slow, and definitely not in a straight line. She dashes wobbily here and there, drawn inexplicably to sand-filled nicks in the pavement, to clumps of mud, to fallen leaves, to minuscule pebbles.

As I watched her, I realized something. She didn't wish the crunchy leaves fell from California trees. She didn't know the sidewalk was inside an apartment complex in Florida. She just embraced it all, loved it all, and stood laughing with her chubby hands full of tiny treasures.

And inside that golden moment, I whispered aloud, "Oh, Father. Make my heart more like a child's."

Follow her on twitter, say hi on facebook, leave a comment for her to see you were here :)


  1. Love this. Sometimes I want to be a mama just so that I can love the days and count them slowly, like this. Singlehood keeps me running through life, each day a carbon copy of the one before, racing toward heaven.

    Thanks for sharing your sweet words!

    1. Thanks so much for the lovely comment, Lore! It takes being intentional to savor the moments -- and I definitely am not intentional about it all the time. But that's what makes the captured moments so sweet, I think. :)

  2. beautiful post ... sometimes all it takes to be grateful is to see what we see every day ... through someone else's eyes.

    especially a child.