LAUGHING

They are six and nine. Riding in the back seat of my car on the way to hike at the park, these two “all boys” decided to try to meditate.  I heard them say to each other, “Now, close your eyes and clear your minds.”  It got quiet.  But in a few seconds, they burst out laughing.  Again, “Close your eyes and clear your minds.”  Again, silence—then uproarious laughter. 

I thought, “This is the way to do it.”  When I meditate, I too have trouble quieting my mind for any length of time.  I too lose concentration. But, my response is not so much laughter as condemnation.  I think, “What’s wrong with me?”  “Why can’t I do this?”  I often get critical of myself and wonder if I can do anything right. 

And then I think of what one of the saints of the past said about life: “The purpose of life is to love God and enjoy God forever.”

And I think, “If I am to enjoy God, why not break out in laughter?” What is it about religion in general and prayer in particular that has to be so serious?  What if God desires our delight, not just our service?  What if love has as much to do with laughter and delight as it does with commitment and faithfulness? What if loving has as much to do with joy as it does getting things right? 

So, I resolve, “Laugh” instead of “judge.”  Laugh when I lose concentration rather than judge myself as inadequate. After all, I suspect God is laughing at how seriously I am taking myself.  And if God is laughing, maybe I can laugh with and in that same spirit.

DIVING IN

It had rained for a day and a night.  I was in a downtown coffee shop enjoying the gifts of retirement.  It was a slow morning.  The owner's wife and 2 children had come to have breakfast.  As they were leaving mother dressed the kids for rain.  The all walked outside toward home.  Before they went 10 feet out the door, the almost 2 years old boy headed right for the gift to all little boys--an ankle deep puddle of water.  And, ignoring his mother's protestations, he walked right in!    Oh, to be young.

There is something seductive about the abandon with which almost 2 year olds take on the world.  They are curious and when something looks interesting, they explore.  They dive right in.

What is it about getting older that keeps us from divng into life?  What keeps us from tasting and exploring the unknown.  What sucks out our curiosity?  

I think it may be a lack of grace.  It may be fear that we will make a mistake.  It may be that we will become the mistake we make.  It may be that people will not forgive our mistake.  Ankle deep water dries, but some of the consequences of our mistakes don't disappear with a warm dry towel.  

Certainly caution has saved my life more than once.  But, oh to have a small measure of that little almost 2 year old's curiousity and freedom to explore.

Candy Bar Corner

It was a street corner filled with flying candy bars. Bitter cold January morning in Indianapolis, sun struggling to make a difference, and I was on my way to the office. I stopped at 75th and Shadeland and there in the middle of the intersection were flying Snickers and sliding Three Musketeers. Three boxes of candy bars were being mauled as cars raced by, tires flipping cold and chaotic candy bars all over the intersection.

I wondered, "Where are all the kids?" I was tempted to stop in the middle of the intersection, get out of my black Subaru GT and like a kid chasing dollar bills dropped from the back of a Brinks truck, collect as many of the unmashed bars as I could gather in my arms.

But, I didn't stop. I watched, and as the light turned, I drove over the hapless bars and headed on to work. I wondered, "What happened to the little boy who grew up at his parents Dairy Queen in Monett, MO? Where is the little guy who excitedly spotted a penny in the gravel of the parking lot, picked it up, polished it off and carried it carefully in to share the good news with my mother? Where is the little boy who delights in the little sweet gifts that fall from the sky (or from the pocket of some unsuspecting customer, or from the back of some truck carrying candy bars)?"

I wondered, "Have I become so gorged on the sweet gifts of life that I fail to delight in the little ones that fall in my path? Have I become so accustomed to having what I need and getting what I want that I fail to notice the candy bars that just appear out of no where? Am I so busy and moving so fast that I fail to stop and pick up the unexpected delights that fall my way? Am I part of a society that is so obsessed with getting somewhere we are not that we fail to delight in where we are?"

I don't know what candy bar corner was all about. I don't know where the candy came from. I don't see many people buying whole boxes of candy bars in the grocery store. I seldom see boxes of candy bars being carried down the street in open trucks. (The fact is, I seldom see food of any kind in open bed trucks where it could fall off-except tomatoes in the summer heading for the Red Gold factory in northern Indiana). As far as I could tell these wayward collections of wrapped calories just fell from the sky to stir storm-like in the middle of that unsuspecting intersection.

But, what I do know is that I might stop in the racing around of my life and notice the moments that come to me in the lives of other people who come my way. I have missed much because I failed to slow down and pick up the pennies that others have discarded. I have sought to fill my soul with "meaningful and purposeful" activity and in the process, missed the delight of "sweets from heaven" that simply come for a moment and lend light to my soul.

I suspect those candy bars don't really have any purpose or meaning. But, I am grateful they slowed me down to notice my own life.