I watch as the kids’ shoulders sink almost as they exhale.
The process is repeated again and by the third round, the energy in the room has shifted to something much lighter.
Megan moves among them as they breathe, occasionally kneeling to adjust a posture, or to place a hand between a child’s shoulders, murmuring praise.
“Good job, Sadie.”
Next, Megan instructs them to lie back on the mats.
“Let your thoughts float past,” she coos. “You don’t need to hold them.”
Soft chime sounds fill the room.
“Have you ever seen yours this quiet?” another accompanying parent next to me whispers.
I shake my head. “Not even close.”
After several minutes, Megan claps softly to end the session and the kids sit up and then stand in unison.
Then two staff members enter carrying trays of tall glasses filled with thick, vibrantly colored smoothies. Orange, green, red, colors so bright they almost glow.
As the kids take them from the trays, no one grabs and there are no spills.
Sadie accepts hers with both hands, the orange concoction.
I manage to pull her aside as the others begin sipping.
“How are you doing?” I ask quietly.
When she smiles at me, her expression is serene in a way I’m not used to, so relaxed. “I’m good.” She takes a sip. “Really good. These smoothies are amazing. We already got some before and they said we will get one every day.”
“That’s wonderful,” I say and Sadie grins and joins her new friends, the two girls who arrived the same time as us. Maybe they are sharing a room.
See, nothing to worry about.
After a few minutes, Megan calls for attention again, and the children are guided through a grounding exercise next, palmspressed to the floor, eyes closed, counting the seconds of contact to natural stone.
“Your body knows how to be calm,” she tells them. “We’re just reminding it.”
By the end, the kids look even more relaxed and peaceful.
When the session ends, they rise and file out quietly.
Back in my room, my phone buzzes again. This time it’s a message from Judy.
How is Sadie? Is she okay?
I type back quickly to reassure her. Judy is a helicopter mom and I know how hard it is for her to be separated from her daughter.
She’s great. Calmer than I’ve ever seen her. Really receptive to the program.
Then another message appears, fromhim. He also left a lot of missed calls, five in total.
Are you able to slip away tonight? Or are you busy?
I stare at the screen for a long time, then type.
Surprisingly, I have time.Let’s meet on the beach. There’s something I need to tell you.
