A handful of frozen blueberries, miniature Halloween gummy bears, and Hershey’s chocolates—my evening sweet tooth satisfied—I can kick back and watch my first-place Seattle Mariners take on the Houston Astros.
During last night’s game, curled up on the couch, legs crossed and a cushion propping him up in his comfy stance, I said, “Isn’t it nice to be retired?” He paused, looked me in the eye, looked away, then back again. “But you work. I don’t want to minimize that.”
I twisted “work” into a new meaning: a choice, something I do for pleasure. “Dave, did you know I only saw five clients this week?” He didn’t—and we laughed at my hard week.
Evelyn asked, “You know that game with guys with red things on their hands who stand in the ring and fight?” “Boxing?” I asked. “Yeah. I’ve been wanting to watch it.” I pulled up a replay of a pay-per-view fight at Mandalay Bay, and we watched the featherweight bout. “Why is this real—people fighting?” Her face scrunched, the gap from her recently lost lateral incisor showing, and she shook her head in disgust. She gets it—the tension between entertainment and “what the heck?” is real.
Yikes—Houston just walked a Mariner with the bases loaded. Not the ideal way to give up a run, but I’ll take it.
When Dave and I first started dating, we read Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind—a chapter a night together. That Buddhist wisdom was a lovely way to share time, so when he asked if we still had the Tao Te Ching, it reminded me of that. He’s read a page, I’ve read a page. We didn’t get to it today, so I’ll do that now. The last line I saw: “Simply stay at the center of the circle.” Those Buddhists—so wise.
After stepping away from Christianity in my early twenties, I found Buddhist teachings a salve: gentle, without pressure or expectation. I’d listen to Alan Watts, read Saint Francis of Assisi, or pick up Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements when I needed a spiritual lift. I’m working on making a daily spiritual habit—a grounding practice, a little handhold of peace I can reach for every day.
The great horned owl hooted this morning and this evening. Not knowing much about them, I looked them up and learned that their eyes don’t move. I mimicked how they’d have to swivel their heads to look around and got a little chuckle out of it.
I told Evelyn she could stay up as late as she wanted. Her “Thanks, Mom” was the sweetest thing, and makes me want to give her all the candy and toys too. It’s only an hour past her usual bedtime, and I may encourage her to “think” about bed. I’m sure she will, she’s a good kid and likes doing right for her body and mind.
I hope you had an amazing day. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 