I’m trying to work on my god-damn mindfulness and it’s not working. Maybe I should start a blog where I blog the experience of doing everything…mindfully. Eating an avocado toast. Drinking a glass of wine. Being clobbered by my toddler. Watching Stranger Things. Getting stuck in traffic.
Drinking a glass of wine.
White noise, Little Einstein’s and the sound of Husband orchestrating Burger Night (every Monday) in the kitchen.
It’s dark in my bedroom, and warm with lamp light. I pick at my lip, my bad habit, thinking. The wine stands on my desk darkly, richly, regally; and my toddler is in the next room asking if he can eat his pumpkin. Hold on.
OK, I’m back. (The answer was no)
I have the slightest case of heartburn because our country is pretty much actually at war. We might not be in a battle zone all the time, but there is a mass shooting everyday by a different terrorist and that seems like war to me.
Wait this is not mindful.
So I have heartburn lately. I guess it could be worse. I take a sip of the sour, stringent red wine and the flavor opens up like a flaming flower.
My toddler is here yelling “I can climb!” and trying to push the buttons on my computer.
Is this mindful?
Red wine puckers the back of my tongue.
My toddler is asking me to open a box of crayons and he pronounces it “ipin dis.” I tell him he can take the crayons and the coloring book but to only color on the coloring book and he runs away, then runs back to me and hands me the coloring book saying “I don’t need dis.”
I had better go.