I cleaned off my dining room table today and suddenly felt like I had my shit together.
I didn’t, of course. But looking at that clear space where clutter had just been had an unusually calming effect on me. It was almost as if the table was cheering me on. “See? You got this,” it seemed to say to me with the light reflecting off its shiny cherry finish.
As I sat in the chair facing the open space where school supplies and papers had been piled, I could breathe a little deeper. It was a small space where I could look to and physically avoid the hecticness that is adulting and parenthood. Continue reading