Bathing the moment

Yellow cast of pollen-sea meets shore

Bathe this moment as you bathe a newborn baby.  Warm the water of your attention to the heat which warms without scalding, soothes without chilling. 

With awe and attention, place the naked child against your heart.  The steam heats the bathroom; you pause and listen to two hearts beating like water droplets from the faucet of life.

Tenderly, tenderly, you lower the babe in the water it remembers from nine months of floating.  It remembers the gentle somersaults of turning.  It remembers the gill of the sacred cord which joined spirit with earth.  It remembers the crescendo of birth, the path from the sacred cave unto sweet air and light and creation.

Take your washcloth, now, and move it softly in the creases of this moment, between the tiny toes and fingers.  The baby moment coos now, doesn’t she?  Or does the baby moment squall fiercely, all sputter and splashes? 

The moment splashes either way and you’re damp with bath water, damp with a memory of that innocent face bubbling up from the blue tub.  The water binds you as one, bather and bathed. 

Now comes the soap, the soap of creativity.  Take it and lather.  Bubbles surround and dance, pop, pop, pop!  Quickly now, before the next bubble pops, before the baby chills–pull it gently up from the tub and bring it squirming and soft back to your heart. 

Water everywhere.  Wrap both of you in a towel and let the bath water drain back to where it began.  You’re both clean.  You and the moment, inseparable.

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2 thoughts on “Bathing the moment

  1. Awww, Cindy, you came over here to read the baby-baby blog. Hope you didn’t get all wet! (Then again…maybe should say…hope you did get all wet.) LOL!

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