Be Here Now

During winter break, we went south. The temperature stayed above freezing, so every day we could stay outside for as long as we wanted.

This city has a Coca-Cola center, the only aquarium in North America with a whale shark, a rooftop park with mini golf and amusement facilities. But our favorite place was Piedmont Park. It has a huge lawn. The grass was a bleak yellow, and there was nothing on it. But it felt soft underfoot, like a thick cushion. Comfortable to stand on, sit on, or lie down. Because it's so big, you can run in a straight line for quite a while. We raced, threw frisbees, watched clouds drift by, chased falling leaves. There were many things we could do.

We went to Piedmont Park on the first day. On the second day, I asked my son where he wanted to go, and he said, "Piedmont Park." On the way there, we saw another tiny park. It had just a couple of stone benches, and only half of the park was finished. There were two very tall trees.

This year we invented a new game: when leaves fall from the trees, you try to catch them before they hit the ground and see who catches more. To passersby, it probably looked like two people with their arms outstretched and heads tilted up, running around aimlessly, suddenly speeding up, slowing down, twisting their bodies. Definitely not normal. But it was really fun. You never know when the wind will come, when a leaf will fall, or what path it will take. Sometimes a leaf that's just about to land in your hand suddenly turns away. Leaves of different shapes and sizes fall at different speeds and trajectories. My son and I usually only stop when the people with us (aka his dad) completely lose patience. And by the way, catching leaves in an open space like Piedmont Park is especially satisfying since we don't have to worry about running into walls or trees.

We chased leaves for a while, then walked along a path and found another slightly larger small park. Calling it a park is generous. It was really just a large open space, covered in fallen leaves, and surrounded by trees. At one end there was a small waterfall, only about one person tall. The water flowed down into a pond, then into another pond, and then another. That was it.

On the last day, I gave my husband the day off and took my son with me, and we went back to that small park. My son climbed up and down excitedly on the only ten stones by the waterfall. Then he turned to me and said, "this is my happy place." So easy to please. What a great way to be.

Then we followed the water to the first pond and stood there watching. We noticed that whenever a leaf fell into the pond, circles of ripples spread outward, gradually filling the whole pond. If a leaf splashed when it landed, several sets of ripples spread out at the same time. We watched for a long time, then couldn't help to start throwing leaves in and holding our breath to watch the ripples. Then we threw more and watched. Again and again. Circle after circle of ripples filled me up. It was the entire world.

Before this trip, I had been struggling with whether to quit my job and become a coach. I saw a blog that said: if having a job is just to make money so you can travel, and traveling is so you can feel happy, then what if the job itself already makes you happy?

While traveling, I also realized that if the places we loved most on a trip are just an empty field and a small pond of water, then why do I need to travel so far at all?!

I brought only one book for this trip: Eckhart Tolle's Stillness Speaks. Short, concise, every sentence to the point.

"When you make friends with the present moment, you feel at home no matter where you are."