In my younger years I envisioned philosophers as elderly, balding men (weren't they always men?) of great thought with marbled visages of wisdom. Folks whose frocks I wasn't worthy to starch and press, much less engage in conversation.
This beleagured brain has clocked a few hours since then and those youthful misperceptions have been challenged more than once, most recently from the back seat of my very own vehicle, which was at that moment speedily northbound on I-65.
I have a tendency--actually I have many, but of specific interest here, I have one--to overthink and over react. Well documented and long suffered by those who know me well, I have accepted their observations as fact and, on a good day, am able to wrestle said tendency into quasi-submission.
Then the month of May arrives, in all its verdant glory, and with it transitions, celebrations, feasts and festivals, many of which involve me or members of my fairly good-sized family. What better opportunity for said tendency to gear up into overdrive and power me on through Memorial Day?
Overdrive has its benefits: speed and...well, speed. No engine is meant to go many miles in one gear, and the human engine is no exception to that rule. Which brings me to my 17-year old back seat philosopher.
Our northbound trip on I-65 was the result of the happy addition of yet another furry member to our herd-sized four-footed fleet. The sun was shining. The pup was adorable. The kids were besotted. And what was I doing? Thinking ahead to some weeks hence, planning, to-do listing, fretting about said furry friend and his impact on the month of May.
And then came the quiet words of my Olympian thinker: "Just be in the moment, Mom."
As calming as the proverbial hand on my continually twitching shoulder, those words made me stop and think: just how many moments, exactly like this one, have I let get by me, simply because my transmission is stuck in one gear?
So for you, my many friends, a May Day moment. Be in it.
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