It came to a head when the pandemic hit. My introvert’s dream come true. Except that now my boys, aged 8 and 5, were with me ALL. THE. TIME. There was no escape. No down time other than the evenings when I was exhausted and strung out.
Something had to give.
So I started to meditate. I started slowly. I’d pop my earbuds in every morning and listen to a guided meditation before I even got out of bed. Some days I was present. Other days I’d fall back to sleep. But I kept going. Messy and imperfect.
At some point, I moved to a spot in the basement. Made myself a cozy little corner, with a meditation cushion and some candles. And I kept meditating. I didn’t have a spontaneous spiritual awakening. I wasn’t struck by lightning.