How does one “live in the moment?” None of us wants to look back on our life and realize that we were just rushing from one thing to the next. Trying to check off as many “to-do” items as possible.

Most often, when L and I go for a walk, it ends up being more stop and go every 2 feet than an actual walk.

We have Cassia trees lining the streets of our neighborhood. In the spring, long green pods grow alongside the beautiful yellow blossoms. Then, as we head towards summer, the lovely green pods turn dark brown and look like long poops. Well, these pods fall all over the grass, sidewalk and street.

L would collect these pods on our daily bike rides. She would try to put them in her basket or carry them in one hand while trying to steer her bike with the other. When the pods dry out, the seeds inside rattle like rain sticks. Anyway, I had the bright idea of smashing the pods on the sidewalk so that the seeds would spill out. So now, L’s mission on all walks is to collect the seeds. She picks up as many as possible on our journey around the block. Halfway around the street, we walk pass “the muddy.” It is a mystic place that is separated from the rest of the world. Mystery and lore hangs over “the muddy” like a thick blanket of fog. There are magical powers at work in the land of “the muddy.” Ok, the reality of “the muddy” is that it’s a sliver of dirt between the grass and the flower bed. It’s only 6 inches wide and maybe 10 inches long. Over watering of the grass has caused the water to collect in this area and now it’s a mud puddle. L, however, has invented stories about dragons that live in “the muddy” and we must pass by quietly and offer our gift of the Cassia seeds.

She likes to toss her collection of seeds, one at a time, into “the muddy.” We visit “the muddy” every day to see if the fairies have made the seeds sprout. And yesterday, they did!! I think it was just a weed, but to L, it was evidence of God’s power at work making things grow.

So, each evening, we set out on our trek to “the muddy” to see what new surprises await us. I try not to rush L. I try to be patient when she stops every 2 feet to pick up new seeds. I try to remember that her memories of these walks will be pleasant ones if I can “live in the moment” and realize that my walks with her are not a task to be checked off my list.