Love

Fynn wakes up and begins immediately to interrupt my thoughts as I ponder my day.
"Mom"..... "Mom"
"Morning Fynn"
"I'm hungry"
This is the demand for food and me to get it for him. An expectation comes with it that I will carry it upstairs for him so he can enjoy it in bed while watching his show.
What is loving here? I could get up and get the food and take it too him while I consider that really he is old enough to get his own breakfast and quite capable. And that I do love him and would love to have someone bring me breakfast in bed. Conversely, I could remind him that he is quite capable of getting his own breakfast and please come downstairs and do so. I am not a slave.
The answer with love, the skillful choice lies is what feels right for me. There is not just the answer to his need, but also the delivery of the answer. What does feel right? Can I deliver the food without feeling negative judgment?
Ahhh... when I do something I cannot do with absolute positive love and offering, I should not be doing it because I am not loving myself. The tricky business here is that I love my son and want him to have a healthy breakfast and I feel compelled to ensure that happens  AND I also believe it is important for him to learn how to take care of some of his own needs.

It's all in the delivery.