Thunder Rolls And Rain Falls Quietly On The Ground

My wife fell asleep on the couch tonight while I played on the Wii with my boys. She slept through the whole thing. She slept through the laughing, the yells of disbelief, the whoops of victory. The boys went upstairs, got ready for bed, came down, kissed their mother on the cheek, and trotted off to bed. She still slept.

I put them to bed. I cleaned up some of the mess I made in our bedroom when we returned from our trip. There are some suitcases left on the floor, but my clothes and shoes have been put away. I started to tidy up a bit because the house needs to be cleaned tomorrow. I have more to do in the kitchen, and I could get ahead in the bathrooms. It will make tomorrow a little easier if something gets done tonight.

She is still asleep.

My wife spends most of her day running around, ferrying our boys here and there, running errands, shopping for our food, and working, when she has the time. Our lives are good, particularly in light of some of the suffering going on in the world today. She’s worn out, though, so she sleeps.

I want her to sleep. She deserves some sleep.

I, for my part, want to sleep, too. Nothing is stopping me, of course, but I find myself at this moment very much awake and…thinking. Today, Eckhart’s card reminded me that being too enamored of my thoughts is a sign that the ego has seized control. I am resisting the temptation to let my cleverness mesmerize me. It would be a vain and shallow shame if I succumbed to such egoic treachery. Instead, I am letting my mind wander, taking me (and you) where it will.

It occurs to me at this moment that I feel much more comfortable sometimes just allowing the stream of consciousness to come. Good stuff.

Everyone around me is asleep. It gives me great satisfaction to know that my family can just drift off to sleep without too much concern. There is time tomorrow to worry for others in the world. Tonight, there is just my family, and that is good.

I can hear my wife breathing downstairs on the couch. Somewhere in the darkness, outside the walls of my home, thunder rolls and rain falls quietly on the ground.