“I just need a good piece of GrASS”
In a sudden ridiculous (and almost laughable were it not so truly disconcerting) moment of insight I realized today that I miss the grass. With all that has been gone from me this year; the travel, the social connections, the usual family visits, the hugs, the music, the stages, the everything I considered normal…
Today I missed the grass. As I drove slowly past a city park and saw the walkers, the cyclists and the skateboarders, I realized that our restrictions include not stopping. Exercise is encouraged but only of the upright persuasion. A moment to pause on a bench or to drop cross legged to the lawns to contemplate over a blade of grass is discouraged. As if the plague of the century can not catch us in movement but waits to descend upon us as we sit quietly inviting it in. While wildly intelligent in its ability to mutate, I have some serious doubts about its ability to think critically enough to peg out the only person in the park who paused to lean against a tree.
Everyone was moving. There was such little comfort in that for me. In retrospect I can understand why perhaps, having been the subject of a death glare for daring to drop to my backside for a moment to lean into the energy of a local lake. To shift myself to the expansiveness before me and silence my mind. For this I found myself the recipient of a handful of uncomfortable looks or well aimed disparaging arched brows. And all I had to do was to sit down. It was a cold day, I huddled up in my hoodie, I hadn’t arrived with a shovel and pail or a beach blanket with intention to stay. I simply wanted a minute to share my space with the water. I didn’t fully appreciate the strangeness of these times until that very moment. I further appreciated the very tiny things we take for granted today when I found myself staring wistfully at the grass.
In all the busyness of my life this past decade, in the runs between provinces and towns, I forgot the experience of sitting cross legged in the park during Sun Fest, listening to the beat of the bongos from some tent nearby, having my nostrils assailed by the merging of aromas from the food trucks, and soaking up the familiarity of ease found in flowing gypsy dresses and khaki shorts that spoke of a different time ; an energy of flower power and bare feet. All of these wonderful senses provoked by the simple act of dropping to the grass.
I aim to understand many things in this lifetime, I seek answers to that which eludes me, I seek experience in those things I feel I need on this journey yet… in these times, I find it hard to comprehend standing still in a mile long checkout line while being discouraged from standing or sitting still for a moment in nature.
So you’ll forgive me if you find me with my ass in the grass but my senses need provoking. It’s hard to capture life in racing past it.
Just smile and wave kids. Smile and wave.