Something strange happened to me. Last Saturday evening, I went to meditation at my local metaphysical book store, Phoenix and Dragon. The subject of the meditation was Deep Listening. Because of a hefty social calendar, I had not been to meditation for about three weeks.
I was particularly keen on going to meditation this week because I had spent the last two weeks with sick children. First, my son was sick for a week with a virus. He recovered easily enough, but not before missing a week of school.
The following week, my daughter was sick. First visit to the pediatrician, diagnosis virus (same as my son). Second visit to the pediatrician, diagnosis ear infection. Needless to say, while I had not been meditating much I had been praying quite a bit. God, please let my son feel better quickly. God, please don’t let his fever go too high. God, please let my baby girl sleep just a couple of hours without waking up coughing. God, please don’t let my head pop off from having no break from my kids for 13 days straight – stuck in the house, cleaning up vomit and attending to their every whim no matter how small. I pray, pray, pray I can get through this time without going completely insane. On and on my prayers went.
So when I went to meditation and finally had that hour all to myself to just sit, be quiet, be without anyone asking me for something, without any television, I relished in it. I felt myself melt into my meditation chair (it’s beautiful, my chair).
I’m not sure how much deep listening I did though. I was distracted by just needing to be there, away from the house and the infirmed in my house. I wasn’t feeling great either, probably fighting off what they had.
I found myself wondering how everyone was doing back at my house. I thought about all the things I had not been able to get done because of being home so much. I thought about how I missed being around people, other women – I had missed a couple of get togethers with friends in the time I was home. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t totally alone during this time. Hubby helped a lot when my daughter was sick. He took Nate plenty and did what he could. But a sick baby needs a mom, and my three-year old was particularly needy. She was coughing so much that I was relieved at the second doctor visit when they said she had an ear infection. I thought she had pneumonia at this point. Her coughing had reached the point of hurting her side and she was throwing up three or four times a day. She was really sick.
In my meditative state, I was able to relax and throw off some of the week’s stress, but I’m not sure how much I was actually meditating versus just taking an hour off from my current world.
Now I have to let you in on a secret. Some know, but not many. It’s actually two secrets in one – first, my son’s bed is still in Hubby’s and my bedroom. We have a sitting room off of our main bedroom where our son has a single bed that he sleeps in every night. He doesn’t even have a “fake” real room – our bedroom is it for him. Second, and this is the big secret, I still get in his bed with him to go to sleep then get out of his bed when he is sleeping and go to my own bed.
I won’t try and justify this, although I find most everyone has a thought or feeling about it. I’m sure the thoughts will range from, so what, to oh my. I have even been called a pacifier. I was told, by a professional, that my son uses me to soothe himself then spits me out when I am not needed anymore. Ouch.
So now that I have divulged my secret to you, I can get back to my strange incident. I was in my son’s bed to go to sleep. Well, he was going to sleep and I was reading a book. He had his back turned to me so the light would not bother him while I read.
He had not said anything in a while, so I assumed he was asleep when he suddenly said, “Mom.”
I said, “Yes?”
He said, “You are a know-it-all girl.”
“What?” That was a strange thing to say.
“You are a know-it-all-girl.”
This did not sound very much like a compliment, so I said, “What does that mean?”
Then he said, “You think too much.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “What did you say?”
He rolled over, eyes closed with a slight smile on his face and said, “I said, you think too much.”
He never opened his eyes and never said another word.
You may think it is a coincidence that I had a meditation on deep listening, where I found it very hard to listen. You might also decide that it means nothing – kids say the darnedest things. But for me, it was more than that. Because I do think too much.
No matter what it was, coincidence or a real communication from the divine, the message helped me greatly. It has served to remind to me to slow down. Be present. Quit thinking so much and start listening to my inner voice again. With my life getting so needled down to waking tired, caring for sick babies and trying not to get sick myself, I had gone off somewhere in my mind.
My son, my angel, reminded me to come out of that place and stop thinking so much. He reminded me to stand in my essence, and to consider my soul. And so in the end, on this Saturday, I may not have been able to listen deeply in meditation, but I heard exactly what I supposed to hear.
And today, because of this extraordinary message I received, I am living more consciously and I am listening.