A few nights ago the kids and I were making empanadas. Daughter was grating the cheese. Lots of cheese was missing the plate and hitting the floor.

“Honey, you are getting cheese on the floor,” I instructed.

A moment or two later, more cheese was making it to the floor and missing the plate.

“You are getting cheese all over the floor.”

We are never really certain in those moments of our tone and voice delivery. Did I shout it? I don’t think so. Was my voice raised and my attitude stern? More than likely.

In the next moment.  Daughter was done. She was done with the cheese and she was done with me. As she left the kitchen, she paused and turned to me with all the grace and tender delivery of a nun.

“Mom, your angry energy  touches us and fills the room.”

I took a breath, “Thank you.” I opened my palms clenched at my sides. I uncrossed my legs. I smiled and bit my lip.

She turned and found peace on the couch. I turned and went back to mixing the empanada ingredients. I breathed some more and instantly tears rushed down my cheeks adding their saltiness to the bowl.

I am constantly on her about her tone. Her snarky words to brother, her snotty remarks to her dad and me. But then there was the tone about my energy. Loving. Truthful. Soft and firm.

We are given moments to change our tone, to shift our energy. It is a choice. It is a gift and entirely up to us to receive and return again. Return with open arms and unclenched fists even if that means getting a little bit of cheese on the floor.

Cheers, Jenny