“But memories are time beings, too, like cherry blossoms or ginkgo leaves; for a while they are beautiful, and then they fade and die.”
Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time Being
I spend most of the day with Percy. We sit on the floor of the library and read until I hear his stomach growl. After lunch we play made up games with his toys. Three times he crawls up into my lap for unsolicited cuddles. He moves in close, snuggling his head into my neck and I vow to burn this day into my memory.
"It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling..."
— Aldous Huxley (Island).
I find good advice in the quote above and see where it might be time to maybe lighten things up a bit. Enjoy more of life without wading through the questions every action and reaction may bring about. Lightly I tell myself over and over, hoping it just might sink in.
“One of his favorite words now is “Pop.” There’s no question that it feels good in his mouth, but it’s not just that. In the way these things usually go in the house of family, Nana is wallpaper and Pop is a chandelier. “Pop! Pop!” he shouts now, searching for his grandfather.”
― Anna Quindlen, Nanaville: Adventures in Grandparenting
We take him to the park to feed the ducks and play. He and Grandpa send secret messages back and forth and I watch the marvel in his face. He thinks the whole thing is magical, and I have to agree.
He runs to me for a snack, to read a story, or to help him find his boots, but it is Grandpa who points out the possibility of magic. Suddenly the world is full of so many new things to discover and I can’t tell you how fun it is!
“A person is a fluid process, not a fixed and static entity; a flowing river of change, not a block of solid material;
a continually changing constellation of potentialities, not a fixed quantity of traits.”
― Carl R. Rogers, On Becoming A Person
I would love to think of myself as a “flowing river of change” - but man that is hard. So fixed in my ways, I feel it just might be impossible. But, I also feel the clicking of the clock, and understand it is now or never. Lately I have been I allowing myself to imagine a life a bit different, a life where I give more space and time to the cravings and curiosities that churn deep inside of me. I have been exploring how this might look, dipping my toes into some of these changes and I think there just might be a glimmer of hope that some of these visions just might surface, before I run out of time.
I tell myself I have the wherewithal to do this.
I tell myself the only one stopping me is myself.
I tell myself I still have time.
“I would love to live like a river flows,
carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.”
― John O'Donohue
I head out one day to a nearby park hoping to find a few signs of fall. The sun is out and the sky is blue, and I can see that a few leaves are just starting change as I pull in into the parking lot. It is a gentle shift, subtle signs among the green of summer’s end, making the transformation of fall’s advancement, more noticeable. I ask myself how many photos I need to take of the brightly colored leaves scattered here and there, and then let the question wane. As many as I want I decide as I carry on, letting go of any expectations I might hold other than allowing myself the joy of the beauty and quiet that surrounds me.