My Time

A few people have asked me recently, "So, what do you do when Eva's at school?" Well, I do whatever I want. Whatever I want. I don't stay home very much. I do things that I can't do with her or are easier when I'm by myself. This week, I explored hilly, dippy, woody trails that are too bumpy/narrow/steep for her stroller (e.g. Arroyo Park, Whatcom Falls Park). I run or walk until the songs from Signing Time stop playing in my head to the beat of my footfalls. I go until I get into a zone and then I keep going. I don't listen to music so I'm alone (alone!) with my own thoughts. I compose essays in my mind, like this one. I notice the shiny green buds on the trees and hear the birdies calling to each other in the canopy over my head and know that spring is coming.

Today's trail was great--knotted with roots and rocks, hills and dips, curving around trees. A natural trail. Not some smoothed out, gravel-packed, wide boulevard of a maintained trail. Those are great for strollers but when I'm alone, I want to get off the trail and onto something more exciting. This trail had a long sweeping railroad tie staircase that was fun to run down and leap up a couple times. And a smooth blue-green pond that fell over a waterfall. There were trees everywhere and duck pairs hanging out in the morning sun. Ah, deep breath. On a narrow bridge over the waterfall, I meditated and stretched for a bit. The sun warmed my back and relaxed my muscles. The rush of water drowned out any white noise of civilization and the swirls and bubbles focused my vision to the Now.

Then, I hopped and walked briskly back down the trail, up the stairs and walked as fast as I could back to the trail head. There, I met an elderly Russian gentleman whose truck broke down (his radiator, I think). I offered him my cell phone but he said, in choppy thick English that he didn't know how to use one and needed a tow truck. So I phoned a couple places and got him a tow truck with only 10 minutes to wait. He was so grateful when he cupped my hand between both of his strong old man hands. His voice wavered a bit as he said, "Thank you. Bless you." over and over. It feels so good to do something for someone when my only reward is this fuzzy feeling.

So this is what I do when Eva is at school. I also take a shower, eat bread with peanut butter and honey and drink a cup of milk after getting sweaty. I write. I don't do chores (though I organize them in my head) or run errands or talk on the phone. I don't get on the computer or idly flip through a magazine or do other time-sucking things. I do this: sit on the back deck and write and soak up the sun (in jeans and a sweatshirt--it's not spring yet!)