Drifting - a visualization gone wrong

How I long to drift. For my mind to be quiet. To walk out the door, down tools, raise the anchor and go. Like the plate spinner, 5 star chef, the mother of three. She is also the housewife, the shopper, mediator, entertainment manager, washer, cleaner, cook, animal keeper. 

How I crave to drift. 

I woke up early to find myself tangled between dog, child, man. I ease myself out of my comfort to relieve theirs. I open the door, the dogs tumble out running free as if the garden was brand new every morning. Relieved. I rub sleep from my eyes and stare up at the willow tree, I breathe and listen to her leaves...

I need to net the pond.

I turn away to the flower beds, I watch a solitary bumble bee float around my dahlias. 

I need to water the garden later. 

I notice the empty washing line I need to fill

The dog's relief I missed last night. 

I call in my pack, help the eldest up the step. He's made coffee for me, I smile, I sit, I sip. I watch the blue tits outside the window, kiss him goodbye. 

It's quiet now, everyone is sleeping still. "No one needs anything from me right now."

....I listen, I breathe, I feel my body tingle at the influx of oxygen, and relax. My mind is in a new place, my ears remain on high alert. Like a mother deer watching her baby splash in the river smiling, whilst her ears twitch and turn. 

I begin to relax on that raft. My son, who I normally have to wake at midday, shuffles in on clumsy sleepy feet "Morning Mum" and I'm back. He fixes himself a drink, and plays with a dog. I'm still listening - is he being careful, is he being gentle with him? 

Okay, back on the raft, and into the hammock. I swing from side to side. Deep inside the hammock. My daughter has noticed I am not laying beside her, in she stumbled hair in knots. She's had a dream, she needs to tell me about. 

Okay, hammock. Ahhhh 

Sharp claws work at my leg. Looks like the pack is hungry. I growl him away, later!

'Drift back to the island" - but what about undercurrents and jelly-fi "the water is safe," Ahh, the author of this visualization is a mumma too. 

Typically, the children are all quiet and amusing themselves now, the dogs are resting (lucky them.)

The chickens need feeding soon. I must remember to call about the school jumper order today. 

I should reply to that message. 

I start work again soon, maybe I need new pens. 

Perhaps I can not drift right now. Perhaps my pulls are too great in size and number. Perhaps my pack needs me too much for me to let go and howl at the moon. Perhaps when I do I'll burst into flames of creativity, energy and magic. Perhaps, "Mum, what's for breakfast?"