Isn't it amazing how little things can be the bearer of mirth and joy. Like last night, while banned from the living room because my brother decided to tape our father, I read a bit to my mom and got her to laugh maybe the hardest she has laughed with me since before her accident 11 years ago. You have to understand that my mom has never been known for her sense of humor, since the accident though she has developed her own unique brand. This consists mostly of expressions or phrases which come out in perfectly timed rhythms. It is very cute.
Ok so about last night, I have been reading the second travel guide by Maarten Troost entitled "Getting Stoned with Savages" his first being "The Sex Lives of Cannibals" because he is funny and the book was five dollars at Powell's, anyway Mom asked me what I was reading and I asked her if she wanted me to read to her. So I proceeded to read to her a section about the author killing a tropical centipede (which are F**king HUGE, I looked at pictures last night) which lead my Mom to deep laughing as well as fanning disgust. As I reached the climax, "Yucky, I don't like that, yuck" followed up immediately with a laugh. And I have to say it was beautiful, one of those heavenly spaces that almost shines and sparkles because of it's beauty.
I am constantly blown away and yet also equally oblivious to these kinds of moments. More and more I want to be one of those people who is aware enough in the moment to realize that it is one of those treasure like moments, pause and breath deeply imbibing that reality. Like I have some wonderfully intuitive friends who always seem to have the perfect response to others, they ooze care and presence, and in turn are embrace by so many people for the sheer fact that they took the time to listen to their story. I am a talker, well at least when I get past the getting to know you hugging the walls and trying to melt away stage, and at times I have to catch myself and say "listen to them, be present in this moment they are more important than your need to speak". More often now I feel as if I have lost my words that I could write or speak until the world ends and still not offer anything of value or importance. But my words can't always help me be in the present and that is what is important now.