Mom Knows Best

My mom always likes to say "you snooze, you lose," which is very true. She also likes to say that some people act like "they're s**t don't stink," which is also very true, but terribly crude.

I thought of the first saying today as I pedaled past a few homes with large televisions shining through their front windows. It may be possible that the second saying applies here too, but as a mere bicyclist, it's hard to tell.

I began to think of these people as the "snoozers" (which according to the adage, makes them losers as well). I couldn't help but think what they were missing outside: the slow breeze breaking through the humidity and shaking up the trees; the yellow and pink colors in the sky blending together as the sun begins to retire for the day; the fragrance of fresh cut grass roaming through the air; all things that remind us that we are blessed with senses.

I think it is the Buddhist teaching that says to live in the present, not in the past or the future. Taking notice to our senses in each moment allows us to appreciate the present.  When we don't do this, we are metaphorically snoozing. And when we snooze, we lose out on all the things that are right in front of us for the taking.

But then I realized how judgmental I was being towards these early evening TV watchers.

Maybe these people watching TV inside weren't snoozers or losers. Maybe these people were taking notice to the way their children smile when that little yellow sponge bounces his way across the screen. Maybe a father and son were sharing baseball-talk over creamy dishes of chicken pot pie while they sat and watched the Phillies. Maybe a Grandpa was sitting down on his La-z-boy sofa about to rest his aching back while watching a rerun of Bonanza.

Although being outside seems to activate our senses very easily, it is not impossible to have them activated through the little things we overlook--like eating a meal or even watching TV.

So when I arrived home tonight I made sure to take notice of my lanky fingers working their way across the keys, making a rhythmic collection of sounds as I typed this post. And now I will appreciate resting those fingers until tomorrow, when I discover something new to type about.

The T-shirt my loving and sarcastic sister bought me today