We're so busy wishing for the hard phases to pass that we sometimes forget to notice the beauty that's happening right now. We want naptime to come faster, bedtime to arrive sooner, the toddler tantrums to end - but we also want to freeze the snuggles, the tiny hands, the sweet voices calling "Mommy."

Today we'll explore this tender contradiction of motherhood - how we can simultaneously want time to slow down and speed up, often in the same moment. We'll give ourselves permission to feel both the exhaustion of wanting difficult phases to pass AND the grief of knowing they will.

Sentence Stems:

• Time is…

• When it comes to time in motherhood, I…

• The moments that feel too fast are…

• The moments that feel too slow are…

• Time feels different to me when…

Visualization

Read slowly, pausing between each section

Close your eyes and take three deep breaths. Let your body settle into this moment.

Imagine you're your 80-year-old self, looking back at this exact day in your life. See yourself with the wisdom of decades, the perspective that only comes with time.

What does your older self want to tell you about this season of motherhood? What does she see that you might be missing in the daily rush?

Now imagine you could step into this day with her eyes - seeing the sacred in the ordinary, the fleeting beauty in the chaos.

Picture one moment from this week - maybe it was stressful or frustrating at the time. See it now through the lens of your 80-year-old self. What becomes precious when viewed this way?

Feel both truths at once: the realness of your current struggles AND the knowledge that you'll miss parts of this someday. You don't have to choose between them.

Place one hand on your heart. Whisper to yourself: "I can be tired AND grateful. I can want this phase to pass AND miss it when it's gone. Both feelings are true, and both are okay."

Take three more deep breaths, holding both the difficulty and the beauty of this moment, and gently open your eyes.

Creative Prompts:

Art Journal Prompt: Draw or paint what time looks like.

• Is it rushing? Dragging? Swirling? Heavy? Light? create a visual representation of that feeling using:

  • Colors that match the energy of time

  • Lines or shapes that show the movement (or stillness) of time

  • Textures that capture how time feels - smooth, jagged, soft, sharp

  • Any symbols or images that represent your current relationship with time

Written Prompt: Write your own version of the poem and then a letter from your 80-year-old self to you today.

Reflection Questions:

1. What shifted when you imagined viewing your current life through the eyes of your 80-year-old self? What became more precious or meaningful?

2. How does it feel to hold both the difficulty of this season AND the knowledge that you might miss it someday?

3. Looking at your art and/or letter, What would change if you approached one daily routine with the eyes of your future self?

Today we explored the profound perspective that comes with imagining our lives through the lens of time and wisdom. We practiced holding the beautiful contradiction of motherhood - being exhausted by our current season while knowing we'll miss parts of it someday. Through art and writing, we connected with the voice of our future selves and discovered that the ordinary moments we often rush through might be the ones we'd most want to relive.

The time paradox isn't something to solve but something to honor. We can be tired AND grateful, overwhelmed AND aware of the precious nature of these days. Both feelings deserve space in our hearts.