I wish sometimes life wasn’t so basic but two days ago I was feeding my mother pudding in small baby bites and making cooing noises at her. Two days ago our baby was almost born prematurely. I lay on the floor in yoga and felt the presence of that child and started crying – a sort of wracked with joy and fear type of crying – I had just completed two hours of downward dog and several attempts at a handstand. I caught myself and said to the spirit of this baby – stay there, you’re not ready yet.
I saw myself at the hospital bed feeding my mother pudding and felt the oncoming presence of a baby who, in turn, would be getting pudding from my hand, and thought is that what I am, cradle to grave, a conduit for pudding?