Last week , Zachary, age 8, was home sick.  I fed the other children and got them out the door and off too school.  But Zachary lay on the yellow couch, covered by a red blanket, staring wanly up at the ceiling.  As I fussed around in the kitchen, cleaning up after the breakfast mess, I heard him call out:  “Read to me.”

I left the dishes on the counter and lay down with him on the couch, book in hand.  Several hours later it was time for lunch, and we were still cuddled up on the couch together, having read over 50 pages of King Beetle Tamer, by Isabel Wyatt.  Zachary is normally a very active little boy.  And it’s been a long time since I have spent an uninterrupted amount of time with him, just the two of us, whiling away the morning.  I was sorry he was sick (and he’s all better now), but also grateful for the opportunity that his illness provided — 0pportunity for spending time together, opportunity to be at home, nesting and cuddling and listening to each other.

I was reminded of our morning at home together while reading Dana Jennings article in today’s Science section of the NY Times, titled At Home in Solitude As a Spirit Recovers.  He has been coping with prostrate cancer and he writes of the joy of being at home, a place where he can heal in comfort and safety.  We all need a home like that, a place and rooms where each of us can hole up and get better, rejuvenate ourselves, take care of ourselves and our families.  We all need a home that offers security and peace.  A home that encourages rest and mindfulness.

Most of the time, life is not restful and peaceful.  Most of our lives today are hurried and fragmented.  We are torn in hundreds of different directions, multi-tasking the hours away.  Much of the time we are trying to think of several different things at once — today I have been asked to write two articles for two different publications, and I need to bring snack to the second grade, to pick up some lemons at the grocery store, to answer several emails, make a phone call, find the winter jackets, return the child’s clothing that didn’t fit, and so on.  We are all juggling a variety of tasks.

Another article in today’s NY Times Science section is titled Practicing Mindfulness as Well as Medicine.  Pauline W. Chen, M.D. writes about doctors who have learned to be mindful.  The benefits of mindfulness — being present in each activity, being in the now, –  are documented.  The doctors in the study who became more mindful were “less burned out and less emotionally exhausted,” compared to the doctors in the control group.

I think the same could be said for parents, for mothers.  If we could learn to be more mindful, that feeling of being overwhelmed might dissipate and be replaced with clarity and calmness.  Dr. Michale S. Krasner, the lead author of the study says “We all use mindfulness at some point.  It’s not something that you go out and get, but it’s something that you cultivate.”

We can all do that, especially as parents.  We can all cultivate mindfulness so that we are truly present with our children.  And we can make a safe home for them as well, a place that encourages mindfulness and rest.   In Making a Family Home, I write about both of these aspects, about providing a nourishing home through consciously, mindfully, considering each aspect of every room. And about trying to be lovingly present in our homes with our children.