“Do you want to go canoeing?” Samuel asks.
No answer from me, he adds, “Do you want to go biking?”
Non-committal and quiet, he gets it and goes off biking down the road by himself. Rest and rejuvenation was needed after a day of many accomplishments. A day to enjoy the fruits of my labors, listening to crickets while the sun soaked in.
Once adjusting to changes in nature as fall approaches, accepting the inevitability of summer’s waning, the craving arises for relishing every moment. But Samuel seems more in need of me than I am used to. And in trying to comply with his wants, mine are shoved aside. And I shoved them there.
“What about tomorrow,” he asks.
Feeling the pressure once again, I caved.
“OK, which one,” I asked.
“Well, the canoe is still loaded. We can canoe one more time then I’ll take it off,” he said.
Uninspired I agreed. But when we went enjoyment was lacking. The waterway close by is not the prettiest and has stinky spots where the fishermen left their catch to rot. Aren’t you supposed to take out the hook then throw them back?
Returning home it seemed as if the day had been stolen. There is something precious about the approach to fall. The stillness, the crickets, the hum settling me to my bones right to my heart. After a life of agonizing loneliness, thirsting for closeness with others, but thwarted by an inability to trust, the person I want to know more fully and be content with… is me.
But Samuel seems so needy. Get a hobby, go DO something. Don’t rely on me so much. Our paradise keeps me excited. Each lap brings wonders. Two baby spotted deer love our creek area eating up the fallen pears. They freeze at my approach wondering what to do.
Staring at me one finally hops away. The other was there after lap two still staring which made me chuckle- silly baby. The King Fisher swoops into the water searching for something. Though what is a mystery in that little creek where the only fish are gigantic carp ten times their size.
A fat ground-hog wobbles away. Little bunnies as inexperienced as the fawns grow each time one is spotted, but are becoming sharper at detecting my arrival. Butterflies are stupendous, orange, black, yellow and white.
Keeping our home brings pleasure and occupies much of my time puttering about making it pleasant. Walking laps throughout the day keeps me well physically but also emotionally and spiritually offering deep peace and a body that thrives on movement.
Trying to please another is OK, but not when it steals peace and joy. It’s no earth shattering problem, just interesting how much my tendency is to give in to what another wants. We must each find our way. Mine might include saying no.