It is 7 am in the morning, and I jump out of bed in a leap that would put kangaroos to shame. I am late, and in just 45 minutes I have to send my brood, with lunch boxes and snacks, out into the world.
I spin around the house, multi-tasking – slicing, boiling, toasting and frying. I curse my alarm clock for not being louder, and for not cutting into those thick layers of sleep.
The household is chaotic, everybody is packing their bags, looking for phones, chargers, socks, missing papers.
My menu is pared down to what can be called ‘basic, filling and healthy’, nothing creative, nothing that will cause my kids to go wow when they open their boxes.
Somehow, things get done, and the kids leave, their minds preoccupied with tests and friends. My husband leaves soon after, his mind already at work.
And me, I get a breather before I plunge into my day. I take my coffee and stand near the window. The sky is a bright blue, and the moon is still clearly visible.
The moon looks so beautiful and calm. So near, yet so faraway. Floating as it does high above, the moon seems serene and totally oblivious to all the craziness down below.
Looking at the moon makes me dream of the impossible; and makes me believe that a two minute break in one’s day can be magical – rising above the mundane and all the clutter, taking a deep breath, and sipping coffee.
A few minutes of bliss. Peace. Calm.