Child Walking - Mother's Day Tribute '09

Some of the neighbors thought I was crazy when I was a child. They thought that because I often walked up and down the sidewalk in front of our house for an hour or more. Other neighbors thought I must be composing music or fantastic stories or something exceptionally creative.
I didn’t encourage either idea of what was going on in my mind, but neither did I volunteer any information on what I was thinking. I was embarrassed to say what I thought about during all those hours because, mostly, it was nothing. I might start off day dreaming about what I would be like when I grew up. Beautiful, like my Mother, I hoped, but more sophisticated, with a leopard skin coat, and maybe a leopard too. Or a housewife with children, like her, but one who made chocolate cakes, unlike her. Or maybe one who played bridge in her underwear on hot summer afternoons? That Mom didn’t make cakes. She made “Ladies Drinks,” & the other ladies in their undies enjoyed the drinks and the game. Although I didn’t know anyone with a leopard, or even a leopard skin coat, my imagination didn’t usually roam far from our neighborhood or my parents circle of friends. Despite those limitations, it was obvious that there were many variations in female adults. But after a short while of imagining my adult self, I didn’t think about anything. I just walked my blank mind back and forth. Now I realize it was a moving meditation. The only strange thing about it is that I was a child. Wasn’t I lucky that my Mom never said, “Stop it! The neighbors will think there’s something wrong with you.”

Mother’s Day tribute, 2009