YOU ARE HERE

Do you know where you are?

When I was a single parent, I was fortunate enough to live within minutes of Six Flags Great America and have season passes. I would pick up my then, 3 year old son, Kevin, from the babysitter and head over to the park. I needed to spend a little mommy-son time together before the nighttime routine: dinner, bath, pajamas, story time, prayers, and good night kisses. I felt guilty that I worked and that the babysitter got the best of my son during the day. Not fair, I wanted to be his mommy all day not just at night. I was determined to create as many good experiences as I could to assuage the heartbreak of not seeing Kevin smile, laugh, play, (or even cry) throughout the day. I’m not the only parent who suffers with this shortage. So what better way than scurrying off to Bugs Bunny Land in between my afternoon commute and evening routine for some fun, right? Nothing, except most of the time I was honestly tired after a long day, and so was Kevin. He’d get a little whiny and demanding and would drag his heels through the park.

The din of Great America rang in our ears as we walked hand in hand through the bustle of commotion. Synchronized screaming could be heard from the roller coasters and water slides. Pipe organ carousel music was competing with the venders shouting, ‘Hot Dog’. A single whistle blew in the distance. Kevin looked up at me to ask with his eyes.  I said no with my eyes: No to the hotdog, no to the train ride. We’re on our way to play in Bugs Bunny Land!!

Suddenly, Kevin pulled away from my hand and left Daffy Duck Boulevard and walked about 10 feet off the path. I didn’t call him back to my side. Instead, I let him explore for a few moments. Maybe he wanted a break from hurrying from one place to the next? A flowering bush caught his eye, and with purpose, his little blond-haired self bent over to pause and smell a single yellow rose.

I can still see it in my mind. I am not sure why, but I felt in that second, Kevin wanted me to stop too. “Mom, you gotta come smell the roses!”  The cliché of it all made me smile. I wish I had a camera that day to capture my enlightened little 3-foot Zen master. Note to self: Remember this moment. YOU ARE HERE.

Luckily, the photo memory remains; I pull it up all the time. But only in the last few years have I understood what it means to truly stop in the moment; just BE wherever I am and appreciate being. Sounds simple all this being, huh? It’s having awareness of our being that’s hard.

Back in the day, out of my need to generate memories and squeeze out the last drop of energy we both possessed, I’d hustle Kevin through the park to get to Bugs Bunny Land (or any land) so we could start ‘our time’ together. Little did I know that our time together began the moment I picked him up from the babysitter. I was thrilled to see Kevin. However, I was unaware that I wasn’t aware. I was decompressing the day in my head and thinking about what to do that evening. It’s a conditioned habit. I wasn’t always mentally present with Kevin. I didn’t even know what that meant back then. But Kevin did. Kids do this naturally. Adults have to meditate and practice it.

Kevin will be 25 years old this month. I can’t believe over two decades have gone by. I can’t believe in all that time they haven’t come up with a cure for cellulite beside stop eating sugar (like that’s going to happen). Mostly, I can’t believe it’s taken me two decades to learn how to stop and smell the roses; two decades to learn how to ‘live in the moment’ and just BE. It’s my new occupation. It doesn’t pay much but the benefits are worth it. I’m realizing that I only really have THIS present moment. In the amusement park, there is always a sign somewhere that will tell you where you are if you need a little direction: YOU ARE HERE. It’s always a relief to find your bearings again. However, you are not so lost if you live in the present moment-directionally speaking that is. I love what Jon Kabot-Zinn says, “Wherever you go, there you are!”

Life's Mindful Moments: It began to rain so I decided to run Fred (my furry-child) out to the grassy postage stamp that is my back yard to do his business before it started to downpour. (Nope, didn’t grab the umbrella. That would have been too easy.) Fred sniffed around to find the spot he wanted to mark. Everything in me wanted to rush him to go as fast as he could. “Come on Fred, my shirt and hair are getting wet!” As if it was his fault. He just lifted his leg and stood in focused tripod doggie-pee-pose. So I paused, took a deep breath to accept all my wetness then realized it was an opportunity to embrace my inner kid. I smiled and turned my face up to the sky and let the warm rain fall on my cheeks, my nose, and my eyes. I don’t think I’ve purposely let my face get wet by rain since I was a kid Zen master. Eventually, the inner adult came to her senses and dashed back inside. What do you do when you’re all wet? Shake!!