A Random Monday Night
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A Random Monday Night
John Paul Derryberry
I don't want to alarm anyone, but the next pandemic epicenter might be my house. This past Monday, about 14 stuffed animals came down with some sort of disease. No matter how many times dad doctored them back to health, my 3-year-old daughter insisted their symptoms had returned. So finally, an hour later, the stuffed animal infirmary was packed, and my daughter looked me in the eyes and said, "Now, Dad, you are sick." I felt terrific, but my daughter insisted I might not make it if I didn't follow her instructions-- which consisted of lying down on this specific blanket to feel better, but first we had to turn over the record because the music had stopped playing.
As the beautiful music of Jason Isbell filled our home, I basked in a random Monday night, turning into a joy-filled occasion. I had taken my girls to the "red" park for a quick romp before the sun went down. They, in turn, were goofy, silly, and pulled about 100 "Dad, watch me," orders. So, as I laid on that blanket, trying to recover from whatever those stuffed animals had given me, I smiled one of the most stress-free smiles ever. We are in a moment of history where society seems to be getting worse. Leaders tweet about violence to get clicks, and people ramble gibberish that this is the most divided that people have ever been. Someone, please hand those folks a history book opened to the pages covering the Civil War or World War II, or the cold war.
Maybe, it's the pace of the world now. Perhaps, it's the speed at which news travels. Possibly, it's our fascination with always focusing on what is going wrong, what went wrong, and what will potentially go wrong. We tend to forget the sheer amount of good going on, if we would just pay attention. I still have a vivid memory of bumping into a professor about ten minutes after I blew off class on a beautiful fall day to goof off and be silly. The professor looked at me and asked- "no class today, John?" I answered, "nope, too nice to sit inside today". He replied, "you have more of life figured out than you realize, John".
It's that notion that things could be worse. It's the belief that magic can happen on random nights of life at any age. It's realizing there is the present but, more importantly, being present. It's understanding that a dumb quote from a dumb movie, Van Wilder's, "Never take life too seriously. You'll never get out alive," is a very true statement. It speaks about our experience with others, our connections to loved ones, and our actions while navigating life.
Maybe the randomness of numerous personal life events has allowed me to embrace the mantra of trying to control less and live more. I've covered them in this space a lot. I'm not suggesting, we shouldn't try to work at our lives, or that all of it is out of our control. Instead, I'm talking about remembering as often as possible to enjoy life, and encouraging each other to let go of some stuff as best as we can. We should allow ourselves to skip responsibility from time to time because a lovely fall day should be enjoyed outside in some fashion.
On a random fall Monday night, music-filled our wonderful home. I laid next to the 14 sick, stuffed animals, and my daughter informed me I was all better. She was correct; I was better. I was better for slowing down, enjoying life. I was better for attempting to allow compassion to be my guiding light. Finally, I was better because I let go of the thought that I had to be doing anything other than what I was doing at the moment. It was a random Monday night that turned into something I'll remember for a long time. Wish more of us chased those moments instead of spending so much time with the other stuff we are doing.