Some Learn from the Dalai Lama, Others from a Moose

Things that are kicking my arse this month--



NaPoWriMo

allergies

emails

housework

my cat who keeps putting my laptop into hibernation mode



*



Things I could use a little more of--



Sleep

compassion

sunny weather

protein



*

We have a sunny day here in the NW and Jeannine gets sunburned and I have an allergic reaction to sunscreen. How white is that? I swear, I'm the Darwin fish that falls off the car. I thank God my daughter has some genes from a warmer part of the world.

*

THE SAFE--






So, as I said, we had an incredible Saturday here in the Northwest, 78 degrees!~ Though while I'm celebrating this, there's this spooky little feeling that if the weather can fluctuate a full 35 degrees in a day, something is not right with the world. Record-breaking weather is no longer something I cheer about. But I was playing ostrich to the climate change beast and just appreciating the fact that I sat watching a Mariner's game in the 300 level until after 9 o'clock at night in short sleeves.


I must tell you, I have hated Safeco Field (which I refer to Mariner Field as the idea of naming stadiums after corporations makes me ill) since it was built. The taxpayers of Seattle said no, but the M's had one fantastic season ( this is the Ken Griffey Jr., Alex Rodriguez, Edgar Martinez years) and they decided to build it anyway. Their motto: "if we build it, they will win." Well, if you follow the M's you know that's a dream unlived, but the stadium was built (and right next to it, another stadium for the Seahawks reiterating the same message I was taught as a UW Husky: Sports Matter!) I had wanted the money spent on the stadium to go to the Seattle schools and for a long time when I saw these stadiums I thought, "Those could have paid a lot of teachers."



Anyway, I've hated this stadium from the get-go. But I have to tell you, sitting there with my family on a Saturday night looking out to the city skyline, a warm breeze floating through, eating sunflower seeds, peanuts and pink cotton candy, I thought that the stadium was made for us at this moment. It was absolutely one of the best times I've had in a long while.




About the 7th inning, the Mariner Moose appeared at the end of our row. Now, when you're sitting in the cheap seats, you don't expect to see the mascot, I mean, you're thrilled if the pretzel man walks by and will have spontaneous applause for him. So seeing the moose was how I would have responded if say, Dave Matthews had walked in.

Now, as responsible, thoughtful American parents we did what other responsible, thoughtful American parents would do when seeing the moose-- we yelled MOOSE! then pushed our daughter in front of us yelling, "Run to the moose! Run to the moose!" WTF? This our first response?

Thinking about this later, it seems strange that when a stranger comes dressed up in a wacky costume, our first thought is to push our children toward them and photograph the encounter. Though, we were not the only one who felt this way. Children began appearing out of nowhere. The moose was some sort of sticky, fuzzy magnet drawing them in and in.




After our daughter shook the moose's hand, we yelled, "Dance with the moose!" And she did. And then did we. We were drunk on mooselove.

We looked up for a moment and we were all on the big screen dancing with the moose. Dogs were sleeping with cats, the Dalai Lama was in Seattle spreading compassion, the moose was giving high fives, drunk men losing their sunglasses and drunk women were finding them, gnats appeared in the lights like fireflies, and we were dancing with the moose to Louie Louie. I was wearing a soul patch, my husband was wearing a soul patch, strangers passed us their children who we gently placed near the moose, the moose shook and waved, kids who hemmed and hawed missed out, learned a lifelong lesson about "he who hesitates is lost," leaving sadly back to their seats without moose's blessing.



I don't know, it was a ridiculous baseball in-the-moment madness and the whole day was a reminder to me about not to take things so seriously, to be a little less judgmental on the world around me. For some reason (call it ego, or call it Capricorn), I tend believe I know what's best, I know the best candidate, the best things for education, the best ____________ fill in the blank. But I'm ancora imparando (still learning).



I'm still learning that it's not my way or the highway, but a reminder that my job in life is to be the observer on deck and not the captain steering the ship. For a long time, I believed the world didn't turn without me running the streets in the circular pattern. The sun wouldn't rise if I hadn't set the alarm. I guess I'm sort of alarmed out and I've been feeling more happy as the understudy than having the need to jump onto every stage.



I guess if we think happiness is a pursuit, we'll never catch it. But if we sit down and take a look at the view (even if it is in a place we insisted was wrong), we may find that all the seats aren't so bad and maybe we'll even like what happens next.