To further prove the thoughtful, gentle heart of Fisher, this happened yesterday: when I picked him up from school he handed me a green sheet of paper that was folded in half with "mom" written across the front in his large unpracticed scroll. He said "look mom, I made you a thank you card." He told me he asked his teacher how to write 'mom' so he could make me a card to say thanks for all I do. That boy likes to bring happy tears to my eyes. Seriously, how many 5 year old boys have the heart to express their thanks like that?
On a completely unrelated topic, the other evening I was sitting outside awash in the sound of the cicadas. There was an average size tree nearby but it sounded like there were hundreds of cicadas making it a home. The strange thing was for all that loudness emanating from that tree I couldn't spot a single cicada, as if the leaves themselves were singing. It got me thinking this--that we don't always need proof of vision to believe in something, that we should trust our other senses, that what we feel in our gut is enough. I had been straining my eyes to find a cicada and realized in doing so I was interrupting the experience they were providing. So when I stopped and eased my body and just listened I could fully appreciate their ancient voice, their raw nature--their song gathered from over 300 billion years of life on this planet. When I let it be I became witness.
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