Tuesday, November 24, 2009

I Don't Mind

Tuesday is my early morning these days. While the rest of my family is sleeping I am up, fully clothed, munching my Life cereal over the morning paper. Bub found me that way this morning and asked in astonishment, "Are you the only one here? Did you get up and come down here all by yourself?"

When I confirmed that this was, indeed, the case, Bub replied, "Well, you have me now. So you don't need to be alone anymore."


Bub's new favourite expression is "I don't mind." He uses it in situations where he might be expected to mind a great deal: taking medicine, turning off the computer, letting Pie have a turn with the Leapster. It's as though the turn of phrase has revealed to him a whole new weapon in his arsenal of response. He could let out a shriek of rage OR ... he could simply choose not to mind.

Not minding has its advantages. It promotes serenity. There is a beatific quality to Bub these days, as he explores his newfound Zen. All around him may be chaos but at the centre is Bub, not minding.

"You know what it's called when you don't mind things very much?" I asked him the other day. "It's called being easy-going. And you know who else is easy-going? Your Dad."

"You mean Daddy's going easy-going, just like me?" Bub asked in delight. He seems to sense that in not minding he has found an unexpected form of power, a power that is not about getting but about letting go.