A few nights ago Ben mentioned to me that I should meditate–something I used to do a lot more than of late. He is tuned into things so when he told me–out of the blue–to meditate, I did it. Work has been hectic and stressful lately so I was glad to be reminded to take care of myself.
Tonight he and I had a typical evening at home ; we had dinner, he read a little, took a bath, and then he played Angry Birds while I worked on my computer. When I put him into bed I asked him, just for fun, if I should meditate and he told me yes. I said, “Why, Ben?” And he said, “Because you need to settle up.” “Settle…up?” I said. “Yes,” he said and then he rolled over to go to sleep.
I thought about this for awhile. No one would ever use that expression, “settle up”–he couldn’t have heard that somewhere–he made it up. But it’s exactly what meditating is to me–I don’t really settle down…well, I do…but it’s more like I settle upward.
How is he so wise and original?
10/08. Ben said last week: “Mommy, when we let Simon (our cat) outside in the winter, did he go out there and have a snowball fight with a bird?”
When the first plane hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, like many people, I thought it was an accident. Jeff was on his way into the city, and he called from the train. My mom (who had been staying with us for three weeks since Ben was born) answered the phone. “Turn on the news,” Jeff said.
We did, and we watched for a little bit. I saw the flames but, in my mind, I was thinking it was going to be similar to the story about when the plane hit the Empire State Building long ago. A tragedy, yes, but at that point they were saying it was a twin-engine plane, and for some reason I assumed the building was basically empty. It was just too early in the morning for many people to be in there. Geez, I hope the pilot got out okay, I thought. Total denial.
My mom was getting laundry ready to take to the laundromat, and she had the basket in her arms. We were talking about something. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a fireball on the TV screen.
“Wow, I just saw a fireball or something,” I said.
Yesterday I slept late. Ben came in and stood by the bed and said, “I asked my 8 Ball if I’m going to get breakfast this morning and my 8 Ball said, ‘Don’t count on it’.”
“Mommy I don’t want to go to school tomorrow. I didn’t come to this planet to learn. I just came here to take a look at everything again.” Ben–age 6
“How does a foghorn work? Does it scare the fog away?”
I’ve asked Ben a few times what he wants to be when he grows up.
“I don’t know,” he finally responded.
“Well, what do you like to do?” I asked.
“I like to open doors.”
“What if a comet hits the moon and it cracks into a million pieces? We’ll have to get glue and stick it back together. But we’ll have to be careful not to use too much glue or it might spill over to where the sun is and then the sun might stick down below the Earth and never come up again.”
“Mommy, why does my heart beat?”
“Well . . . so it can pump blood to the rest of your body and keep you alive.”
“Where does the beat come from?”
“Um . . .”
As I was pondering this, he asked, “Do I have a brain beat?”