all the noise pulling me places, pulling me away. work, looming, editing, and emails in need of reply. laundry to be folded, dishes dried, counters wiped down, invading ants to kill. time ticking, anxiety rising. but i stay. i stay on the floor, but my mind in a million different places. i stay with him, stacking legos, building towers, making space ships. i wanted to slip away to check my phone, to send a text, to call a friend, but i didn’t, i stayed. it’s hard to stay when everything else tells me to move. i’ve learned that when anxiety moves me to do more, be more, achieve more i have to fight the need to feed that feeling. that monster never gets full. when i feel the itch to compare, to compete, in order to feel complete i know i’ve given my soul to someone or something else to find my significance. so i stop. so i stay.
i stay right near my boy. right near his long arms and smelly feet. i watch the way he moves and the way he blinks. i stay flat, my body resting beside his and we play. i stay. i call myself back from all my fractured places and set aside all that demands my attention. i stay because staying with manoah means i have to stay with myself. i have to hear all my own failings and my own fears of falling behind. i stay and sort through the pressures that cause me to stray from all that i regard as truly significant in my life. i call myself back from the frenzy. i stay.