Jeb and I are at the outdoor shower, where he soaps under the stars. He doesn’t like to bathe alone in the dark and I keep him company while words fall from his mouth as yarn unraveling. It’s an end-of-the-day discourse that peaks at shower time and then falls with a thud on his pillow after putting on his pajamas.
As he rinses and recites, frogs rest and listen in the moss and fern shadows, just out of sight.
Jeb’s at the crescendo. Stories and descriptions of the day’s events come out as run-on sentences. A litany of Lego guy trading on the playground, a scene from a Bruce Lee movie he saw with his dad, and a new knock-knock joke.
“Knock knock”
“Who’s there?”
“A door.”
“A door who?”
“Adore me!”
“I do adore you. That’s a good one…ok, Jeb, get all of the shampoo out of your hair and come on out.”
I herd him toward bed as he finalizes his roll. The last thoughts of his head, draining.
Maybe the world is always our oyster but some days feel like you’ve been granted the secret password needed to reveal its inlaid treasure. Lately, for me, not only has the oyster been gently opening at the hinges, by golly, it’s got two pearls inside!
If I’d been suspecting that I was right there in the pocket – feeling tight, life and I – then all was confirmed at the Department of Motor Vehicles on Friday. Rock star parking led right to an empty line inside. Within five minutes I had paid my annual registration and was back out in the tropical sunshine, moving forward with the day.
More mundane tasks ensued with efficiency and ease. Costco mission complete in twenty minutes (they opened up a register just for me!). Ultrasound appointment done in no time (they won’t tell you a thing of what they see) by a big and beautiful African woman who hummed a sweet song while taking pictures of my womb. I was crossing off my to-do list efficiently, swift like an arrow on course through the maze of downtown. My iPod was on shuffle, the soundtrack of life in my ears. John Mayer singing “The Heart of Life is Good,” and it was easy to concur.
Back home in cyberspace my email Inbox reveals more cosmic winks. For those of you following the Archives, remember those boot advertisements in the side bar of my email screen? These days they’ve changed. They’ve been replaced by airfare promotions now. First stop? Vegas. Perhaps I’m on a winning streak that’s worth a gamble.
The ultimate affirmation comes at day’s end, straight from Nature, when I stepped out my front door and my friend, the White-Rumped Shama gave a wolf whistle from his nearby perch. I’ve heard plenty of his songs, but I’ve never heard that one from him before. You know the call. That emotive sound of approval perfected by crass construction workers. I’ll post the sample here (click ‘wolf whistle‘), but it can’t compare to the melodious beauty of hearing those notes flow from the throat of a songbird.
I know I mentioned the other day in my Sunrise Reserves in the Kimono that life doesn’t roll out the red carpet. That we must carve it out ourselves. But maybe that’s not always true. There are times when we can ease into some sweet spot. Find some perfect groove where Providence has roped off our course, allowing for easy entry.
courtesy of Tomomarusan
I’m following that unfurling crimson runner toward the rare, double-pearled oyster, while birds whistle affirmation in my wake. No need to question. Just be grateful, stay open and say yes.
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