Dawdle-Walking

When I was young my brother and I had the blessing of a mother gifted with joy and imagination; we lived in a park for a few weeks, in neighborhoods with cement and bullets, below drug riddled prostitutes. We never knew any of that until we were old enough to filter the world ourselves. 

Whenever she felt overwhelmed by life we took dawdle-walks together. She would let my brother and I take turns just meandering wherever we felt inspired to wander. She always managed to find secrets to delight and inspire us. We saw the wonder in the world around us long before it could be filtered through its inherent darkness.

Every low rent subsidized apartment we found ourselves in was somehow miraculously transformed by a single mother on very limited funds. Every hole patched, color on every wall, handmade curtains at the windows, and somehow flowers outside of every door with grass whenever even two yards of dirt could be found. When she was waiting for the police to respond to her call for help when the woman upstairs was being beaten by an angry John she turned on the dryer and wrote us a lullaby to drown out the sounds of misery above us. 

Though I have always been influenced by the enchantment she brought to my heart and do find secrets and joy in random places, I have to remind myself quite often to look past the clutter of anger and suffering to see the vibrant life pulsing underneath. In those moments that inspiration can be captured for posterity I celebrate the ability to share the vision my mother’s eyes inspire.

When walking today look down, peer through the haze, let your mind and gaze wander to the delightful around you. I promise it is there.