Uno

Today was filled with a lot of asks.  Asks I made, and asks made of me.  All of them competing for attention.

I’ll write here that I want clarity.  I’ll write that my principle intention is still to move with ease and in peace.  And while what I’ve just written is certainly true (I do seek clarity, ease and peace), lately I haven’t been putting in the care that I know is essential to accessing any of it.

My yoga mat’s been rolled up for a week.

I got my lunch this afternoon from a drive-thru.

I’m tired.  Even when I wake up.

And tonight, just as I feared that one more ask would flatten me, my son said:

“Mum, can we play a hand of Uno before bed?”

My shoulders dropped, my smile rose, and I happily responded with: “you betcha.”

I got nothing but Love for Uno.

Nothing but warm memories of late night cousin tournaments, family rounds on Sundays and holidays, and the sounds of a well-used deck coming together through a soft shuffle and proper bridge.

And tonight, for the first time, the name of the game resinated with me a little bit more.  The object is to clear your hand and confidently proclaim when you are one.

“Uno.”

 

 

 

 

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