Emily And The Ping Pong Game

Sometimes, in life, we all have dark nights of the soul.  For some of us who are more connected to our hearts and emotions than the Internet, they can be bleak times where one feels alone and full of confusion.  For me, though some may call me a whiner, I feel things deeply and I observe a great number of details about people and life in general and internalize the experience as if I were a witness not a participant.  I know that I am not alone. 

I am noticing the silence more this week and putting one tired foot in front of the other.  It is unnaturally warm here in northern California and I find joy in the warmth of the sun on my back, the blue, blue sky, a job well done at work, sleep, an extra cup of Joe in the morning and cultivating more compassion for myself.  I picked up one of Pema Chodron's books that I read before and started it again-The Places That Scare You.

I do sit in meditation for a bit each morning though it is brief after looking for work, making my lunch, sometimes walking the dogs in the dark pre-dawn and it is important to me.  I ask for guidance from something that I don't know exists.  I sometimes ask with great emotion and sometimes I am already afraid of the day.  Sometimes I can feel great sorrow for my struggles and sometimes it is enough to simply know that I am here trying to do good. This morning I asked for help and I asked that it be obvious.

A warm day of pruning and schlepping branches along with Mr. Big I and II led eventually to the afternoon break.  Usually, Mr. Big I plays ping pong with King Richard and I enjoy watching them and listening to their insults as a gateway to male bonding.  Today, there was no game and everyone must have been off checking their phones.  So, I went to sit near the table and eat a snack and take my hat off.  A surprise met me in the guise of a young girl who was hitting the ping pong ball and then running to the other side of the table to hit it in the other direction.

I sat and ate my snack and watched.  She must be about nine or so and had blue and purple checked high tops on that are way cool.  Being my awkward adult self, I was thinking that maybe Mr. Big I would come along and play with her.  Instead, she asked me if I would like to play with her.  I jumped up and we played at playing with each other, each of us a kid, each of us not that great at it but having fun.  It was unexpected and wonderful for me. It made my day. When her grandma came to get her, I asked her name and she said, "Emily."  I thanked her and she then turned and looked at me and said, "I'll be here tomorrow too."

I thought as I returned to my cart and the rest of my day of work, what if God can look like a child in high tops?  What if that was God?  It sure was a surprise and it had quirky obviousness to it.  Emily and the ping pong game shifted everything for me from darkness into light and it was a wish granted on a sunny afternoon in northern California.