Down on the Floor

One Friday afternoon I found myself sitting on the floor in the gym watching my five-year-old daughter do gymnastics. I had tried to get out of it by asking my husband to take her and drop her off. That way he would be able to do the supermarket shopping, so I could stay home and take care of other things. It seemed like a good plan. Unfortunately, my daughter wasn't buying it, and shortly after they left, my cell phone rang. "She refuses to go unless you come with her," my husband reported to me. "What should we do?"

My daughter took my hand, lacing her fingers through mine"I'm coming… I'll see you in a minute," I told him, grabbing my purse and heading out the door. It was only the second class, and I didn't want her to miss it. Besides, if she stayed home, I would get nothing done anyway. "Wait a sec," he replied, "this is silly. We don't both need to go. If you are going, I could get something else done instead." "No, you can't," I answered, "I'm not doing the shopping. I am just taking her to the gym. I will stay with her while you take the baby shopping."

Now I was going to the gym, but I didn't intend to waste time. I would be there, but not fully there. I grabbed some paper and a pen, so I could plan my to-do list while I watched the class. When she saw me, without a word, my daughter took my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. I took this as confirmation that I had made the right choice. She needed me to be there. What I still didn't get was that I needed to be there as well.

Running late now, we raced to the gym, arriving moments before the class started. I noted that there were only two other mothers seated on the floor, observing the class today, and I seated myself a small distance away in order not to get drawn into conversation. I was there for my daughter, but I still believed that wasn't enough to justify this time. I needed to work as well, to accomplish something tangible, because there was just too much to do.

However, as I tried to focus on my work, I was interrupted by repeated requests of "Mommy, look!" as my daughter stood on her head, and performed backward summersaults. Eventually, I stopped trying to write, and continued looking even when she wasn't calling me. Was that really my little girl upside down, doing things her mother had only dreamed of? I myself had studied ballet as a child, which was high on princess appeal, but not as high on "wow!" appeal.

Every time she looked up to call me, I met her eyes because I was already watching her. Eventually, she stopped calling me. The teacher, who was also standing on her head, and doing back flips, was much more interesting than plain old mommy seated on the sidelines.

Now by this point, I could have snuck out of the room, and gotten some serious work done in the waiting room outside. Yet I stayed. So why was I still down on the floor observing the class when I was no longer needed? That's when I got it. I needed to be there. Not only for her, but also for me. Even when the stress is on, and the to-do list is growing faster than my ability to cross things off, I need to be present in order to stay connected with why I am doing it all.

I need to be present in order to stay connectedWe are a generation of stressed-out, burned-out mommies, because we are doing it all, but we are not paying attention to much of it while we focus on the monstrous task of getting everything done. By pushing ourselves to accomplish more each day, we lose sight of why we are doing it, and sacrifice our opportunity to really connect with the people we are with, and the job we are actually doing.

Burn-out is a wake-up call that we have lost touch with the inner reality and meaning of what we are doing. We have lost sight of the tastes, smells, and sensations that come from being fully present. At these moments, we need to put away the to-do list, and write ourselves a new list. The list of who I am and what I am really doing.

For me, what I am really doing is not about cooking, or cleaning or errands or work. It is about Mommying, and helping these kids to get what they need physically, emotionally, and spiritually so they can go out into the world and fulfill the enormous potential that G‑d has implanted in every child. Did I lose time as I stayed to watch the whole class? I did, and that meant that some of my other work didn't get done that day and the house wasn't going to look perfect for Shabbat. But I learned if I manage to stay connected with what I am really doing here, then it won't matter if things don't look perfect, because they will feel perfect. It will feel like a home.