I’m sitting in the middle of the coffee shop, hyper aware of everything. Of the clicking of the laptop to my right, of the flipping of the newspaper of the old man to my left, the scooping of the ice and the chatter of some old friends in the corner. I feel the weight of my fit bit on my arm, the fluttering of one hair to the left of my cornea. Everything feels on, and crackling. Sometimes I feel that way. Sometimes life feels that way – like sensory overload. Very loud, or very soft but either way – very obvious. Just very. I’ve been feeling this very much with my kids – this crackling, the relative loud and softness of my love for them, the way it gets expressed, the way it feels. It is all sort of out body – I am living these moments with them, and observing them as well. The rapid speed at which they seem to be growing up and changing. The full body experience of my love adapting to their newer, bigger selves. This morning Ruby tells me that she can see the sun coming out....