I used to speak about the "Circle of Life" as though I were 80 years old and looking back on it.

"Oh, you're born, you grow up, you live, you become an adult, get married, have children, then they have children and then you die (though not necessarily in that order these days)."

But I am in fact inside the circle right now in this very moment.

It's spinning but I'm very still.

I see my 9-year-old daughter texting my father - her grandfather - and the tenderness with which he talks to her and

suddenly I'm 9 years old again.

Sliding back in that circle of time, I'm awkward in my own skin. I'm wearing a yellow shirt and orange shorts and my dad is trying to brush my long hair with his left hand. It's frizzy and my outfit doesn't match and by all accounts I'm a mess

but he thinks I'm pretty anyway.

I could feel it then but only now, inside the circle and very still,  do I have the words.

The words which my daughter now feels and will speak of when she's a mother.

I want to tell her about this circle but she needs to grow inside of it to feel alive in it her whole life.

I watch my mother cradle my children in her arms and cook them their favorite foods and

suddenly I'm in high school opening my packed lunch.

The root beer is on the bottom wrapped in a napkin so it doesn't fall through the bag.

The chicken sandwich with lettuce and mayo sits carefully on top of that so that it's cold all day.

My favorite snacks are gently placed on top of that, 

followed by the love note which is the first thing I see.

"I love you princess, Love Mom"

Oh, mom, you didn't even have to say it because I felt it then.

But only now, inside the circle and very still, do I have the words.

The words which my kids now feel and will know when they, too, are parents.

My brother tucks two lottery tickets inside my daughter's birthday card

with words of love that she understands.

"I love you more than Katy Perry loves fireworks, 

more than Taylor Swift loves umbrellas."

And suddenly I'm 7 years old in an oversized t-shirt crawling into my brother's bunk bed.

I'm scared but he doesn't say anything, he just scoots over and makes room.

Together they scratch off the lottery tickets.

But they've already won the jackpot of a lifetime.

He loves her like none other and she knows it. 

 She feels it because she's inside the circle too.

This morning I walked in my daughter's room and there, snuggled next to her,

is her little brother, curled up in a ball next to her warmth and I know that she must have made room for him last night in her bed because he, too, was scared.

Suddenly I am as still as ever.

Spinning slowly inside the circle but yet very still.

I want to keep spinning inside this Circle of Life

and be as present as I can be in this moment.

~ ~ ~

You're spinning too, right now on this planet Earth.

Very, very slowly.

But are you spinning slowly inside your life circle?

Slowly enough to realize that your life isn't square?

I invite you to spin still with me.

~ L ~