Sat for 45 minutes this morning before the kids woke up. Then the day collapsed into noise. By 9 PM the practice was a memory. But the memory was enough. The practice does not need to be remembered to do its work.
My mother sang a Sinhala paritta over my crib every night. I am now translating it. The translation feels less accurate than the singing. Some dhamma does not survive English. We have to learn the songs in the original.
My ten-year-old asked tonight: "Mom, what is enlightenment?" I said: "It is when you stop running." She thought about it. Then: "From what?" I said: "From yourself." She nodded and went to bed. I sat for another hour.