|picnic in the pagoda|
|statue of Quan Yin (bodhisvatta associated with compassion)|
The day was hot and bright. There was a rowdy game of baseball on a diamond just below us and the sound of traffic from the corridor was relentless. My youngest eyed the food; there was nothing she liked on the tablecloth. I have to confess that sometimes I think that if I ignore her fussiness, it will go away (like one day she'll wake up and ask for a grilled eggplant and fontina sandwich). She looked away from the food down to the, mostly dry, fishpond; she sighed dejectedly. But she knows me too well, and instead of
whining voicing her discontent, she grabs a cookie and wanders off to discover the koi hiding in the shade of the bridge.
I've been telling my kids a lot lately (in a thoughtless, get out of my hair, kind of way) that, "boring people get bored." I know this is frustrating and not helpful to them, and a total cop out on my part. But I do actually believe it. And I honestly wonder, how do you teach your children to get inside the dull, and not so pretty, and see the beautiful and profound that is hiding there? How do you keep them from carelessly turning on the TV, and flopping down in front of it at the first sign of a lull? I know I probably can't force them into creativity and contemplation, but I so wish it for them.
It was not perfect idyll, but we did find some peace and beauty in this small, unexpected park.