short bit on joyful living

In the past half hour, I frantically searched for 2 books belonging to one niece, which upon reading I was to pass onto another niece. At first with confidence, I looked in my bedroom. Neither one was there, which pretty much stumped me (false memory that I'd found them two weeks ago and had my son carry them to my room). I cannot stand losing things, especially other people's things. Eventually, 1 turned up...thankfully it was the better of the two, truly worth reading (for anyone interested, it is Diary of a Psychic by Sonia Choquette). The other appears to have vanished. As my blood pressure rose, I nibbled on some dark chocolate and almonds, and brewed some green tea. The desired calming effect achieved, I thought more clearly. The simple resolution is that I'll employ my husband's help (he has incredible 'lost stuff finding powers') tonight. If that doesn't do the trick, a quick visit to the bookstore tomorrow certainly will. With this plan, I let go the last teeny bit of tension and thought about blogging.

Who knows sometimes what rapid-fire train of thought occurs to get one's mind from this point to another, but suffice it to say that in a snap two tiny memories came back to me. About 23 years ago, when my oldest daughter was about 2, we went to the ball park to root for her dad in a softball game. There was a pretty little hill covered in soft grass, and we sat there. Thinking like a child, I thought how fun it would be to lie in the grass and roll down that gentle slope. Thinking like an adult, I figured I couldn't get away with it...there were plenty of other adults around. So, I suggested it to my little girl. She gave it a try, giggled and repeated a few times. This was just about as good as rolling down the hill myself, her enjoyment was contagious. Nearby, a woman a little older than me with a daughter also about 2 was sitting, not directly on the grass but on folding chairs purchased no doubt just for such events as softball games. I heard the woman tell her child definitely to not lie down on the dirty ground, she would get grass stains on her pretty clothes. How sad.

I mentioned I had 2 memories; the other, older one is from my own teen years. I was 16 or 17. My best friend, Barry, was over. It was maybe July, as I remember school was out for the summer. This particular day my dad was home from work, either watching TV or reading a Louis L'Amour western. A good downpour burst from the skies, so heavy you'd expect accompanying thunder and lightning, but this time it was just rain. Barry and I laughed and ran outside. We danced and skipped around in the front yard, yelling at the top of our lungs for MORE rain! Don't Stop! It had been a hot day, the cool water felt great. Well, 20 minutes later it had slowed to a sprinkle, and we came in and toweled off a bit. Barry excused himself to run home and change, I went to my room and did likewise. Back in the front room with my dad, I exclaimed still exhilarated how wonderful that experience had been. My dad with adult tolerance and patience quietly said that as long as we weren't acting like that in our 40's, he supposed it was okay. I retorted that I hoped to be dancing in the rain well into my 90's.

Now I'm in my 40's. I haven't played or danced in the rain in many years, it seems like a lifetime ago. Today I remember these moments, can think of more easily, but the main point is that maybe we could seize these little pleasures, let go and dance or sing for just a bit...books will go missing as do remote controls and car keys, turning up later in the weirdest places, but who cares? So just for today I think I will breathe in and out, take in the sunshine and balance mundane duties or chores with the joy of a child.