Time for rice krispies

I’m not giving much thought to how I organise my jottings. But since my aim is to embrace the present, that’s surely a good thing. I’ve always been better at making lists of tasks rather than just doing them!

Re-reading my first post, I spotted an intriguing ambiguity. I said my angst often distracts me from the present, ‘so I’ve started to write about it’. So what am I writing about – my angst or the present? Looks like I’ve given myself some leeway.

Perhaps that’s serendipitous. If embracing the present is just a euphemism for distraction or denial, then that won’t really fulfill my aim. I hope a healthy focus on the present will tame my angst and perhaps transform it into something positive.

Perhaps my cue can come from the spiritual practice called the Examen of Conscience, often associated with the Spiritual Exercises of the Jesuit, Ignatius of Loyola. One of its forms is a review of one’s day, with the aim of discerning the integrity of one’s actions. Sometimes it is a particular examen, focusing on one action. It’s a practice with a positive aim: not to dwell on one’s weakness, but to reflect on it honestly with a desire for change.

This isn’t confession time. But I think the pattern could provide a framework for my jottings. What’s the one thing from my day that I will embrace, celebrate and reflect on?

Well I haven’t left myself much room today. But the thing that sticks out is the bowl of rice krispies I came across on the post-school-run breakfast clean up. I was trying to get this mundane domestic task done quickly so I could take my cup of coffee up to the computer and get writing.

There were leftovers because my son decided to pour some of his apple juice into the bowl. I wouldn’t do that, I said, it will curdle. He did. Seconds later he told me it didn’t taste so good. Déjà vu – last weekend, we were making chocolate sauce for the banana splits he asked for as pudding (I refused to get the synthetic stuff from the shop). Butter, chocolate, cream. Full stop. ‘Can I put some of this ice cream in it?’ I wouldn’t, I said. You don’t know what’s in it, and it might make the sauce separate or go hard. ‘Please, just a bit?’ I relented. He put it in. The sauce separated. I was disappointed. He was delighted. So today, though admittedly not encouraging him to do it, I took it as an opportunity to explain what curdling was. He may have gone to school a little hungry -- but pretty chuffed with his experiment. In return, my kids are teaching me to chill out.