I wonder often these days, as I am sure many a pregnant woman does, what day this baby will be born. I think of Elijah's and Evelyn's birthdays and how they used to be just days, nothing special really and now they are very special. I wonder at how many times I coasted through those days unaware of the significance that they would one day hold for me. Were they mostly good days with a few bad ones sprinkled in? Did I live them to they're fullest? Did I enjoy them as I do now? This gets me thinking about living in general. How many times do I just get through a day? I spend my days like I have an infinite number ahead of me and even though the day may be "just another day," I still need to treat it as a special gift. I need to get back to mindfullness, but, as we all know that is a hard to state to stay in constantly and consistently...it's rather exhausting really. Maybe we are not meant to be aware totally all the time that our days are numbered and that we should squeeze every amount of joy possible from each moment. Then wouldn't we feel a sense of urgency and obligation that would deflate us and take that same joy away? Maybe we are suppossed to take the good, the bad, and the ugly (excuse the cliche) and go with it...not to over think it.
My mind likes to go in all kinds of pretzal rabbit holes these days. There is nothing like a looming event of huge significance that I have no control over or say in to get me thinking. I had an ultra sound this afternoon and the baby smiled. What a lovely thing that was...made my day really.