My days have been filled with thin whines. It's like listening to air slowly sneak out of a balloon, whose neck is stretched between the thumbs and fingers on each hand, in just such a way that a squeak vibrates through the air. Or like the hard-to-see mosquito that zips from ear to ear and emits its mournful tone. But this whine comes from a two-year-old boy who has had a mild reaction to his flu shot.
There are times when I can almost hear some of my hair strands turn gray, when I can nearly see my body age instantaneously, when I can feel the root of a headache wound tightly about my spine, when I can smell the decaying leaves that gather about autumn-tinged tree trunks even though a window pane separates us, or when I can taste time's bitter sweep as it pushes past me. I feel tired and worn. Do you have days like that, my friend?
During times like these, I let my mind transport me to a rocky hill in Greece with a sparkling blue lagoon stretching all around me and the arms of an island encircling me almost like a hug from God. And then, a good friend at my side, I toss a small rock down the cliff and listen to it tinkle through the silence that sits so thick. And, I laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
What moment can spiral you into a belly-tickling laugh? Let your mind take you there and fill the day's exhaustion with the cleansing of a happy laugh.
The other day, the pediatrician told me that babies really will bounce if they fall.
ReplyDeleteI'm not going to try it, but when I think about it, a part of me does want to roll into a laugh at the thought of an amused baby bouncing like a rubber ball (exaggeration, of course).
But, why is it so easy to get caught up into those negative things that seem so huge at the time, so completely enveloping, when there are so many beautiful things right at our fingertips?