slowing the world.

it's the song i will hum all the rest of my days: what an honor it is, to spend days with francis. he is the most delightful company, the tend'rest of souls, and these simple, messy, wonderful days together at home are being etched onto the walls of my heart, one after another, in rabbit-fast succession, like black and white scenes from an old-time film playing on a loop, the sweetest romance.

i watch him, this perfect creature, and i observe him observing the world around with his whole body. he nudges me to idle in my own being, to swim in simplicity and possibility and presence. there are no distractions for him. he has nothing to check or scroll. there is nothing to tug him out of the very moment he is in, a blossoming, colorful world where clothes tags are dazzling and flickering shards of light are mesmerizing and toes, his own or others', are magnificent. this boy of ours knows only the very thought he occupies, and he finds it worthwhile and he stays there until it passes. he is never the first one to leave, he is only ever exactly where he is, honest and in peace and immersed. his hands roam shadows and blocks, the pages of books, the face of his mother, and i sit beside him in reverence, in admiration, in wanting to be as he is and do as he does and live as he lives. he is teaching me far more than i will ever teach him, of this i am sure. he is the whole of it all.