8:30 a.m. Fresh scent of morning dew wafts through screened windows, tickling my nose and inviting inspiration. A new spring day with endless possibilities tapping at the door. Kids fed, dressed and playing happily in the sun-room, Daddy sipping coffee nearby as rays of crisp, clean light cascade over all three contented lovelies.
A thought flashes before me. Yoga! Might I escape for a brief, but sacred moving meditation to stretch away the cobwebs that have nestled within my neglected joints?
I arrive at class with seconds to spare and settle onto my mat, my temple of solitude. I am equally inspired by an enlightened guru of a teacher who chose deep Ujjayi (oo-Juh-eye-ee) breathing as the day’s main focus, and depart with even more refreshed enthusiasm for this day than before, all the way home hydrating my cells with deep, glorious, soul-filling breath.
As I walk my joyful and invigorated self across the threshold of my home, I am greeted by the vision of my husband and children crawling around on their hands and knees chasing after an army of scattering bugs. Lovely sight, armies of bugs. Even more lovely as they dance, crawl and flutter around on top of, under, and in every nook and cranny of each of the 486 toys that line the playroom walls and floor.
It seems our rental home is infested with termites. I take a deep breath in, still basking in the glow of my yogic trance, calmly make the necessary phone calls to have the problem taken care of, put the kids down for their naps and move the entire contents of the playroom outside for a thorough and deep cleaning.
We sit on the deck atop creepy crawly wool rugs, amidst a sea of contaminated toys. The afternoon sun hugs us as a pitying consolation for the madness that is our lives, and the breeze of this May-ish March whispers through the blossoms as a reminder that all things shall pass.
In our quick ipad termite research, we learn that these rapidly breeding insects lose their wings once they find a place in which to colonize. Picking tiny translucent flyers off of our babies’ past times, we are aware that they have found their cozy nesting ground in which to rest their bellies, bloated with wood and quiet their busy little antennas.
I like to think of these wings as one may think of petals on a daisy. Refreshing signs of the cycle of life on a summer afternoon, all organisms playing their vital role in the ecosystem.
Ujjayi breath in…. One toy disinfected. Ujjayi breath out…. Exterminator announces his arrival. Ujjayi breath in…. Tiny black eggs sucked into a vacuum bag. Ujjayi breath out…. We have too many toys anyway. Ujjayi breath in…. We had felt like failures for not yet owning our home. Ujjayi breath out…. Thank the Lord Almighty we don’t own our home. Ujjay breath in…. The kids are sleeping. Ujjayi breath out….the bedrooms are pest free. Ujjayi breath in….bad things happen in three’s. Ujjayi breath out…I think this counts as three.
3.) Crumbling foundation with millions of antennaed house guests.
But should this occurrence lack substantial enough poundage to qualify as an acceptable number three , may my writing not be misconstrued as seduction of a replacement number three. I think we are done.
Blogger’s Note: Yes. The answer is yes. I have gone completely googley eyed, Gene Wilder in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”, stark-raving mad.