In the movie "Inception", Leonardo DiCaprio's character has a "totem" which he uses to test whether or not he is experiencing reality or is in a dream-state. If the top falls over he knows he's experiencing reality. If the top continues to spin he knows he is still in a dream-world.
There are some nights about which I simply cannot publicly blog. This was one of those nights. Out of fear of a future pubescent stumbling across these words I will remain mum. I think it will suffice to say there was a moment tonight when there was not a single dry eye in our house.
I have been reflecting a lot on what it means to be fully present to each moment. One of the dangers of this kind of thinking is the belief that the present moment is the only moment that exists. On nights like tonight my brain only seems to have room for the particular difficulty that is immediately present. The thought of life outside Sam's bedroom seldom crosses my mind. The sleep issue can be so present before me that it seems larger than life while everything else just barely manages to show up in my periphery. While I like the thought of being present to the moment, I often need help keeping things in perspective or I'm suddenly swimming in despair.
John and I have found it helpful to step outside following particularly difficult sequences. We look at the Indiana sky. We breath. But mostly we look for a neighbor to share in brief, often mundane conversations. There is something about talking with another person outside of our immediate family that immediately snaps us back into reality and puts things in perspective.
So at the risk of objectifying dear friends, tonight I'd like to thank G.B., Dave, and Amy for acting as my totems.