Dr. Halina Krupa writes a blog of inspiration for families who do it differently
I am a mom to a beautiful 5 year-old daughter who makes sure my rituals are simple, short and in the moment. Gone are the days of leisurely meditations at dawn. Now, at dawn, I may wake up with a foot on my head, or little fingers crawling under my shirt, searching for the warmth of my breast–still. My ritual becomes this being in the moment. As I look out the window, my eyes feast on the exploding colors of the sky: mauve, fuchsia, orange. With its constant, low hum, the highway invites me to wake my conscious mind, and come back from the dream world. I begin to softly sing, “Oh, Great Mother, bless and protect” until I feel Her presence.
I do have a small altar high up on a dresser, away from curious, busy fingers. It is filled with little things I found along the way through which She spoke to me. Feathers I kept finding in the back yard before I moved yet again; the holy dirt from a church in Chimayo, New Mexico–a place which exposed my biggest wound and medicine; small statue of Ganesh given to me by a patient who believed I could find love again even when I did not; a picture of Lakshmi anointed with blood and honey at least once a month; a small carved elephant with an even tinier elephant inside her belly. Well worn Goddess cards, power cards, Tarot cards I quickly pull when I’m searching my own consciousness for answers.
Sometimes before we go to bed, I light a candle on my altar and sing my daughter a song. It’s all my tired-mommy body can do. Sing. I let go of the toys scattered on the floor, the laundry piling up, the e-mails I need to send. Melodies from the past fill the room and we are in Her grace.