Kids rolling over my head and tummy at 5.30 in the morning, yelling get up Mum, get up and play with me. Kids not going to sleep when I want them to, leaving me with only enough time to clean up the house before going to bed myself. A week of my husband working late at night meant no time out for me. So I booked myself into the Hilton for a night and was lucky enough to take another Mum with me.
Ironically, I was sad to leave my family. My husband had to push me, and the small blue back pack I carried, out the door. I took the train to the hotel and in the ultra modern room with twin beds I lay back against two soft pillows and listened to the hum of the air-conditioner’s white noise. The only noise I could hear. The silence enveloped me like a hug. My friend arrived and my sadness disappeared.
We dined at Wagamama’s and talked unhurriedly and without interruption. I flipped through books in Kinokiniya like a kid in a candy store. We shared, with complete relish, a desert of toffee soufflé, brownie icecream and Spanish churizos. I had a sense as I went to sleep that night, that home was a good, secure place, a place where my family was, a place where I could be myself and feel completely and utterly loved. It was good to come away and give myself that perspective.
The real feeling of rest did not come until the next morning. I woke without being pounced on. A novelty I could get used to. I did ten laps and lazed around in the spa. I could get used to that too. Later, after I read the newspaper (without it being flicked or ripped away from me) over a truly five star buffet breakfast, I felt bliss begin to creep into my body. But it was after we meditated that I sighed and relaxed. I wished I had started my stay with meditation for it filled my bones with rest. Ahhhhh. To feel rested. I wished I had another night but it was enough for now to know that a spell away was exactly what I’d needed.