The Time To Stop

I wasn't quite sure what to do.  I mean, there isn't a manual for this kind of thing.

I'd been driving on the back road by our house, and a deer had bounded across the road.  That isn't unusual in Southern Indiana.  But behind her, a little fawn - barely able to walk - tried to cross the street as well.

Her mom, apparently afraid of my car, had continued on into the woods.  The fawn made it just to the side of the road, then paused there - unsure what to do next.

That made two of us.

I pulled over to the side of the road and climbed out of my car.  The fawn had settled herself down into the tall grasses, barely visible even from where I was standing.  I did take a couple of photos (with a long lens - don't worry, I wasn't THAT close), but was also trying to find her mom.  I wasn't comfortable just leaving this poor little animal huddling so close to the road.

Knowing that her mom might be watching, and too afraid to come back while I was there, I climbed back in my car and headed a bit up the road.  I watched for a few minutes.  Eventually, I saw the fawn hobble up onto her legs, and cautiously venture on into the forest.

I'd like to think she's walking with her mom right now.

The past few weeks have brought several opportunities to stop and view the wildlife.

(I posted a few photos on Facebook of some turtles that I've rescued off the road - including these little guys below.)

And while the animals and their stories are fascinating enough, what most brings a smile to my face is this:

I had the time to stop.

I wasn't so rushed that I felt the need to keep driving, to hurry on to my destination.

In each case, I was observant enough to see the animal, and present enough to engage with the moment.  It was a choice, of course.  I had places to be and schedules to keep.  

But day by day, I'm designing my life so that those very-loose schedules include space for pauses.

Because I never know who might show up in front of me.

Namaste.

Your To-Do List

I'm sure you have many things on your to-do list for today.  

I've written you a new one.

You don't have to replace your old one.  Simply place this one over the top, like a transparent cover.

Begin here:

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Set Down The Thoughts And Pick Up The Toy

We were at the end of a very long and busy weekend, and we were exhausted.

Sitting at our kitchen counter, I was mentally rehearsing what needed to be done that night.  Dinner, backpacks, painting, ...

Across from me, my son and daughter were playing with their tiny metal cars.  I kept foreseeing a cup knocked over from a racing toy or a scratched counter.  At that point, it didn't matter.  A mom knows when to pick her battles.

Suddenly, a car came speeding in my direction.  I gently knocked it back over to my son so he could keep playing.

A few seconds later, the same car bumps back into my arm.

I looked up at my son, who had an inviting grin on his face.

I'll admit - the first thought that came to mind wasn't, "Cool, let's play!".  It was more along the lines of, "How can I get him playing with his sister so I can keep working?", or "Oh little man, not now...."

But those thoughts were tiny, as if whimpered from some part of me that knew what should be done but simply didn't have the energy to do it.

So I spun the car back to him.  

And so began the epic game of Car Hockey.  

For the next 20 minutes, cars were flying everywhere.  Bump here, bump there.  My daughter delighted in picking up every single one that flew off of the counter, which kept her quite busy.  We'd pause each time someone ran out of cars, or got hit in the finger, or simply needed a break.  There were no winners or losers in this game - just speeding cars and smiles.

I haven't spontaneously laughed so hard in quite some time.

Eventually, the volume turned back up on the voices reminding me of what else was waiting to be done.  By that time, we'd had our giggles and my son and daughter were ready to move on to another game.

The evening continued.  Laundry was started, a few things cleaned up, dinner eaten, and the kids snuggled into bed.

The hours passed pretty much as they would have otherwise.  But now, we have a new game.  We have a new memory.  And perhaps best of all, for a few unexpected moments in the middle of the afternoon, we were playing and laughing. 

I wasn't worried about what was waiting for me - I was playing with what was right in front of me.

As a reminder for myself, I've left those cars on the counter.

One never knows when it might be time for Car Hockey.

Namaste.

Oops. What I Meant To Say Was...

Img Credit: Flickr Creative Commons: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bradmontgomery/5992214519/

I admit it : Even I am a bit confused after reading the last post.  

And I wrote the dang thing.

(And yes, I note the irony - it being a post on "how to say what needs to be said".  What can I say - I'm a humorous gal.)

Sometimes my mind gets to thinking and it just won't stop.  And sometimes, those thoughts wind up in words on my blog.  I don't have a professional editor on staff, so those wordy posts don't get nicely trimmed.  What sounds meaningful at 11 p.m. at night as I hit the "save" button doesn't necessarily sound as powerful the next day.

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How To Say What Needs To Be Said: Part I

Have you ever had something you wanted to express, but simply couldn't find the words?  

In many ways, words define what we can express.  If, for example, we want to describe to someone how a particular food tastes, we have to use words that we know - and, just as important, that the recipient knows.  "Hot", "spicy", "tangy", or "sweet" are words we can use to describe that type of food.  Each word still leaves room for interpretation, but we can communicate an adequate amount about the taste of the food by using those words.

Img Credit: Flickr Creative Commons, http://www.flickr.com/photos/artbystevejohnson/4621634649/

How about when we want to describe the feeling of a food, though?  Sure, the cinnamon bun might be "sweet" and "gooey", but so are the ones from the grocery store.  

What happens when we bite into a certain cinnamon bun, and the combination of the texture, the tastes, and the smells takes us back to a childhood memory when we'd arrived home from school on a particular Friday afternoon and the scent of the homemade cinnamon buns wafted up our nostrils as we swung open the door and ran inside to devour one of the most delectable cinnamon buns we'd ever had...

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