May 2025

6 uur geleden

2 minuten om te lezen

Story about following the body during motherhood. Would you like to read it?

Last night, my son had troubles falling asleep. He never had these kinds of problems. It seemed like he feared being alone. He was crying, standing in his bed and screaming a lot. He only relaxed and found comfort if I stayed in the room with him, and preferable touched/hugged him (he is emo tribal Projector).

My mind was very busy at that moment. ‘How do I get him to sleep?’ ‘How do I leave the room?’ ‘How..’

At some point I recognised my mind trying to solve this ‘problem’. I recognised the mind trying to control the situation. I stopped listening to this very busy voice in my head. Instead, I just let go of the idea that there is something to solve. I let go of the idea of a ‘bedtime’. I knew, at some point my body would move. I didn't know what kind of move.. I only had to wait for that wisdom. So, I waited.

Suddenly my body moved to the floor, next to the crib of my son. He was still standing and crying. I heard myself say: I’m tired now, I’m going to sleep. He looked down at me and laid down. My hands touched his face, and he held my hands tightly. I didn’t say anything. My body sank into deep relaxation. My breath sank deep into my body. I could hear he was falling asleep.

This was such an incredible moment. There was so much serendipity. I felt deeply that this was the place. This floor, this moment, this deep peace. My body, my soul, my whatever.. There was no other place in the world I had to be. It was such a deep moment to experience.

Of course, my mind came in: “How do you ever leave this room?!” “He is holding your hands, once you move, he is going to wake up again.” “Do you really think you can lay here all evening and night?!” “Do you really think this peaceful moment will last?!”

I again waited, trying not to listen to this pushy voice inside my head. I knew, my body brought me in this position. At some point it will move again, but I don’t know when, and I will not interfere. So again, I let go of time. There was no restlessness or frustration. It was still very peaceful (and funny, not discomforting at all).

And there it was! The moment my fingers slowly let go of the touch of his face. My hands slowly found their way back to me, letting his hands go. My body moved very slow and easy. No interference of the mind. Such a beautiful process. I left the room. My son slept through the night.