Become like children in order to enter the kingdom of heaven was the directive- one I could understand objectively- but, never truly grasped- even as a child. I didn’t know how to be carefree – all the while -adults would often suggest I relax-that the real worrying would come later-as an adult. I look at my son now- and he is so honest, open and completely in the present.
This past week – a few things have stood out and I’ve made some connections between all these – seemingly, disparate parts.
My son and I go to the library once a week – and hang out in a little area reserved for children. There is a little toy bakery-with its plastic awning and work bench. And – there sat a young girl of about 10 years old- is my guess -and seated near her-on one of the benches closest to us -was her mother-looking on. An old companion of the mothers happened to come into the playroom and she got up suddenly to greet her- leaving behind four pennies.
At once-my son wished to investigate – as he does with virtually every foreign – potential choking hazard he lays eyes on. As my son darted towards the pennies- I felt the young girls gaze directed at us- and she exclaimed “those are mine!”.
I handed them to her but-she had no place to put them-so , she clutched them in her fist and attempted to continue to play baker but-all the while , watching her mother for a window in which she could present her with the four pennies.
I thought about that for some time afterwards. Sure, we know – four pennies doesn’t amount to all that much but- are we -as adults , all that different…?
We clutch just the same .
Lately – not sure how I got into his books but-I’ve been reading Phillip k Dick (P.K.D for short).He brings up the origin of the word idiot- to be private , cut off from the whole. And- again, I look to my son and he seems to be engaged with the world at large, sitting on the very edge of his front row seat to life.
I was giving him a bath a couple nights ago- and, I experienced one of those rare moments of clarity- without the ongoing clatter of thoughts. I was there – with him and – he recognized this by giving me a knowing smile.
Which brings me back to something else I garnered from P.K.D. This current book I’m on -one of the characters is mulling over the madness of the world. She comes to the idea that this madness is born of a misguided awareness – where the abstract has become the real -while the actual is invisible. But – we go back to the girl with the pennies – and us – I, not knowing what it means to be a child – all the while-grasping.
What we grasp is the abstract comforts that pacify us through existence- while the real – the infinite moment we all reside in – is lost on us. We grasp concepts of nationality, race, land , borders, possessions and the list of abstracts can go on to infinitud.
And- again, I come back to my son, George- and how he has so much to teach me.
