My 4-year-old, with his delicious cheeks and Darth Vader t-shirt, set up a board game for us to play during lunch today. He still pronounces his “l” and “r” like a “w” so I couldn’t deny his request for me to find some “angwy wock and wohl music” on Pandora. We ended up blasting Viking Metal (it sounds just how you think) and playing Snail’s Pace Race, all while Kip sucked down a carrot-apple squeezie, hanging it from his teeth to free up his hands to move the colorful wooden snails across the board. Our favorite was a song called “Free Will Sacrifice.” The singer’s deep, scary voice made us giggle.
I’m walking in a world of contrast lately, some of it run-of-the-mill, some of it more complex. Whatever it’s all about, I’m getting plenty of chances to encounter my truth in whatever duality rears its head. (serenity/dissonance, clarity/confusion, lightness/heaviness, wisdom/ego, connection/distance, vitality/dormancy.) Ah, life. Even in the bumpy times, I have to look at it all and be amazed.
And also, laugh.
For all the uncomfortable contrasts, which really are kinda funny if you look at them just right, the universe also dishes out plenty of overt amusement. In a roundabout way, the moment at lunch today reminded me how enriching contrasts can be. Without them, everything would be in gray scale.