In the chaos of the mall kid-zone my two are off playing without shoes, and I’m sitting pretty still except for my left leg which is rapidly tapping for some reason. It’s extra full and crazy, a face-plant or some other injustice leads to screams or tears about every four minutes. It’s hyper-hypos circling and swinging like animals surrounded by echoes and smartphones and shopping. We don’t all speak English, or speak. Eyes are tired from trying to follow it all.
There’s the timid child, the acrobatic one, the extra angry boy fighting his dragons and three kids far too big for the kid-zone. The big ones have taken over the ABC slide. It’s sticky and verging on lawless. And there in the side corner sits a 6-7 year old boy in full lotus meditating. He’s sitting in the corner but somehow found the very center of the universe of Bellis Fair Mall. I’d been watching the same child previously show signs of struggling with the disorder around him. I noticed him grunting to himself and rubbing temples. At some point he knew he had to sit down and be. And when I saw him being I took complete note and wondered–> why he do? –> who showed him do? –> should I do? –> do you do? I used to know how do.
Others also took note of the little Bodhisattva in the calm pocket of the storm. His little being was large. And should I just smile or wince? Should I be troubled or learned? Should I kneel or bow to the child who seems to right now know more than me/we? Should we go ahead and get Orange Julius or just go home? Is there stillness in either place? Do I do still anymore?
The boy has at least one answer. His eyes are closed but he’s still looking at me. Face-plant.
Wesley Withrow Tracks 