I Live in Two Worlds

I am standing with a circle of parents of girls on my daughter's basketball team. We are outside the school gym on a shiny tile floor, talking about this and that after the game. The conversation is pleasant, laced with laughter and a bit of light gossip. Somehow it comes to me that I am here in this moment; my body is standing upright on earth, swaying a tiny bit. We are all standing here, biped creatures, breathing, alive.


Most likely, no one else in the circle is having a moment of self-remembering, coming back to the stunningly simple fact of existing in this moment of Now. We're all just a bunch of Northern Virginia suburbanites talking amicably. I am feeling the subtle vividness of my senses opening up and sending impression-signals to something within me that registers the fact that I am alive; I am.

The funny thing is, I am in the same moment participating in a friendly banter session with other parents; we are talking about our kids, the game they just won, and stuff going on with other teams: Someone heard something about so and so; that other team's coach used to be in the military; that must account for why he yells at his girls sometimes during time-outs on the court. . .

I want to stay in contact with an awareness that I am here; to keep that delicate sense of "am-ness" going in the midst of all of this -- because it is a sacred feeling, being in touch with the miracle of existence. The conversation of basketball parents goes on; I get drawn into it and forget myself again and again -- but the thought and wish for Working comes back.

I wonder how to creatively solve the problem of Working now in this moment. There is a question: how can I Work in this situation? My hands are hanging loosely behind my back, touching a little. I put two fingers together, using that tiny sensation as a reminder that I'm alive. All the while, the lively conversation is going on. What should I do, split apart from it? Nod politely and walk away? Take a leave of absence from something I've critiqued as "superficial"?

It dawns on me somehow that the pathway is not to walk away, but rather to become more involved, get engaged more deeply through simple interest and attention, participate as genuinely and transparently as possible.

I turn back toward everyone, laugh and nod my head, make a comment, connect eye-beams with folks in the circle, listen to what is being said. Talking with others is as easy as riding a bicycle. We are all ordinary people on this earth. It is a blessing to be alive and to have this moment to enjoy together. There is an experience of the indescribable in the midst of all available descriptions and motions, right here in the lobby outside the gym.