this morning found me in central park with little zoobie (my very dearest sixteen-month-old friend).
we pointed out all the ruff-ruffs (dogs) and made fish-faces upon coming to the pond. the carriage horses elicited long neighs which led to a detailed discussion of all other animals sounds. both of us noshing on our bianca (pizza bread) all the while.
and when my phone rang little zoobie looked up and asked, mamma?
i laughed, looked at the screen and said, yes, but my mamma.
i spoke briefly to my mother, aware of the little girl in front of me.
we spoke of oscar dresses. and who we thought looked best. and work. and guys. and how tricky that can be. and somewhere in our oh-so-brief-but-all-encompassing conversation my mother gave me the best advice of my life.
let me preface:
you see i've been a bit batty of late. working extra hours. and trying desperately to survive the last throws of winter and the inefficiency of the mta (ny's mass transit system). and feeling the need for a change but not knowing what that change need be. and if i haven't said it before, let me say it now, i do not. deal well. with uncertainty. and i suppose that's what i've been feeling: uncertainty. winter becoming spring. paying jobs taking back seats to pipe dreams. new adventures and necessary good-byes.
so my mother in her infinite wisdom said... (are you ready for this?)....(wait)...okay:
she chuckled and told me to relax.
and with that one word i felt my entire chest open up.
the tight coil sprang loose and my shoulders fell into place and i could breathe. and laugh.
and not take myself too seriously.
and space arose where before there was none.
perhaps it was the weather. and the little girl in front of me. and the trees overhead. perhaps it was all those things. because this morning that one word was like fresh-air in some damn tired lungs.