It is after midnight and I'm lying in bed listening to the party going on downstairs. My husband is giving loud and enthusiastic advice to someone playing a racecar video game. There is laughter. Everyone is a bit drunk and, as we are in the middle of nowhere, not concerned about noise.
I lay still for a few minutes - not sure if I am annoyed at having been woken, or annoyed that I went to bed early. (That's me, the sensible one who gets the kids to bed at a reasonable hour and usually joins them.) A while ago I might have stomped down the stairs and asked the crowd to keep it down, but, for some reason, not tonight.
Instead, I remember a funny conversation I once had with a gal who was lamenting the fact that a party-animal friend had quit drinking. While she knew it was good for his health, she selfishly missed having him as the life of the party. I can relate. I once thought I knew what was best for my husband. I wanted to magically change him into the watered down version of himself that I thought would be best. But lying here right now, I am gifted with a moment of clarity. I recognize how he brightens a room with his infectious antics and injects life into even the most awkward of social situations. He is perfect as he is.
It's easy to fall into judgment and loose sight of how everything fits into the grand scheme of things. To glimpse this perfection, even for a moment, makes my heart swell.
There is an ancient Hawaiian practice called Ho'Oponopono that encourages one to take responsibility for their judgments by repeating the simple mantra, “I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.” Lying awake I can't think of a better way to acknowledge this new awareness and to apologize for my arrogance, while at the same time forgiving myself.
I offer up a silent prayer to the man whom I have judged so harshly for his wild ways. I smile as I hear him sloppily coach the game player through a chicane. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you. The party is far from over, but I am happy in my bed, enjoying my little "ah ha" moment. I tuck an arm around my little boy who is sleeping next to me and go back to sleep.