Thursday. April 21st, 2016

A pretty nondescript Thursday from my perspective. Only a couple things on the calendar: Take Jakey to preschool. Teach Lifeguarding class.

Then other work. The business of relating to people, recruiting, accounting, taking delivery of huge pieces of pool equipment. I like days like this with a wide swath of open time to dig into projects at the office.

Then pick up Jakey and spend a great evening with my family. I don’t have that on my calendar. It will just happen organically.

Still, it’s barely noon and I’ve had a pair of first time experiences already. In Lifeguarding class a productive conversation on CPR derailed into discussion of how you would use AED pads on a mole if he or she needed defibrillation.

One student to another: “What’s the strangest thing that’s ever happened to you in a pool?”

“Wait, what…? Well, there was a mole in the pool once.”

Their ideas flowed from there: You’d probably need to place the pads one on the front and one on the back like you would for a baby so the pads don’t touch. And would you have to shave the mole’s fur first?

A fair question.

Where else would you discuss using an AED on a mole besides Lifeguarding class?

Veterinary school? Probably not even there. I don’t think moles are the target pet population for most veterinarians.

My second first–is that confusing?–came an hour later when a student worker tracked me down at the drinking fountain, breathless, to tell me a delivery truck was waiting outside Campus Safety for me.

After getting the driver through the gate and parked in front of the pool, I watched him wrestle our power rack to the edge of his truck bed where it wouldn’t quite fit out the door. It’s a tall piece of machinery.

The driver said, “I’m gonna need a hand up here.” He lowered the big truck gate down and said, “hop on.”

Free ride on a truck elevator? You bet!

I think it’s safe to say both these firsts fall under the umbrella of simple pleasures. It makes me just a little more attuned to watching for simple pleasures through the rest of my day. Keeping my eyes peeled for more chance firsts or brief moments of levity.

Yesterday, I used that eyes peeled phrase with Jakey as we sat on the ground atop our driveway watching for distant lightning and listening for thunder.

He asked, “How do I see it?”

I said, “You just gotta keep your eyes peeled.”

Even as I said it I thought he’d ask what that meant, to keep your eyes peeled. He didn’t. I may have witnessed the way quaint phrases like that slide into our vocabulary.

Back to the thunder and lightning. Simple pleasure, my boy sitting beside me, both of us with feet flat on the steep driveway, arms around our bent knees just gazing above the treetops across the road. Waiting. Smelling spring blossomy scents going past on the suddenly much cooler yet still-warm afternoon breeze.

Such a small piece of a time, just a moment, but one of the best I spent all day yesterday. If I have any sense, I’ll try to stay on the lookout for more of those moments.

I’ll keep my eyes peeled.

 

Post Script:

Inspiration.

Later that same Thursday afternoon I picked up Jakey about an hour earlier than I had intended from preschool and took him to Dairy Queen and then a nearby playground.

We climbed, we spun, and we played a little catch with his new mitt. Catch for him right now is really more like a game to challenge adults where you try as hard as you can to toss the ball gently into his open mitt so you can celebrate with him. Gotta start somewhere.

Did I decide to amend the plan in favor of ice cream and playground because I had spent a little time thinking about appreciating chance moments of levity? Absolutely.

In that moment I made the leap from not just watching for these moments, but creating them.

Appreciate and initiate. Or vice versa.