thing thursday: the music in my life

tashi, not quite two, at the berkeley marina

when tashi was tristan's age i used to take her to a music circle. we would sing songs, move around, experiment with a variety of musical instruments. we used to walk to the playground daily, visit the baby gym, attend mother/baby yoga classes and take regular hikes in the berkeley hills.

tashi on a beach off of highway 1 in california

we would visit the beach where we could listen to the crash of the waves and feel the sand trickle between our fingers. we attended la leche league meetings and met with moms' groups. we drove up and down the coast and into the sierras.

tashi and i in the sierras on january 1, 2000

tristan's babyhood has been a bit more solitary and sedentary. home alone together, we sit about and explore toys and books, we go on the same walk when the weather permits, we move from room to room, find distractions so i can accomplish my work. we pick up tashi from school and often stop at the grocery store on the way home.



when spring arrives, we'll sit on the porch swing, dig in the dirt, take hikes in the blue ridge. and as spring progresses, my little boy will start to run away from me, rather than toward me.



today as we explored our music basket that contains things tashi played with as a wee bairn, and this week as i gazed upon the many photos of a baby tashi that my mother has uploaded to flickr, i found myself reflecting on the difference between now and then. one experience is not better than the other. both have had qualities magical and precious. and each child has brought me a joy beyond any description.



but when i look at these pictures of tashi, i am reminded of how quickly the time goes, how soon it really is that the babe transforms into the individual striving for independence. it is a great adventure, the greatest really.

an almost one year old tashi

these moments of reflection are so very important. i am reminded of the value of the now. however insignificant, the now becomes the crystal i will pull from my pocket in the future, and gaze into remembering what really has made my life worth while.