Weekend Homework

On a beautiful Saturday in March, what would you do with five or six hours to spend any way you want?

“But I can’t,” you answer, “I’ve got so much I have to do this weekend.”

No, you really don’t.

“I’ve got to get through the emails in my inbox.”

Nope. In fact, maybe you should just delete them all. If that feels too radical, just commit to a unconnected day. No email, no cell phone, no catching up on blogs – even this one.

“I need time to plan for something like this. If I’d thought ahead I could have – ”

Nope. No big plans. Nothing dramatic. Go on a walk. Roll around on the floor with your kids. Send the kids out and roll around the floor with someone else. No kids? Skip directly to step two.

Maggie and Elena and I used to love rolling down hills together. We’d stop on the way back from picking up our mail and get a couple of cookies to go. We’d roll down hills till we were dizzy and tired. We’d roll next to each other and we’d roll together. I’d wrap my arms around one or the other and use my elbows against the ground to keep my weight from crushing them as I rolled over the top.

We’d laugh in a heap at the bottom of the hill and then do it all over again. Then we’d sit and watch the ducks and eat our cookies.

How much planning did it take? None.

Maybe one of the kids would ask if instead we could go to the playground and have a picnic. We’d head over to the playground where they used to go with their great grandfather or we’d stop on the way out of the library at the playground right next to it.

Stop on your way back from somewhere and do something fun and impulsive.

“But I can’t.”

Yes. You can.

It’s Shel Silverstein in “Where the Sidewalk Ends” reminding you that you can listen to the mustn’ts and the don’ts and the impossibles and the won’ts. You can listen to all of the people in your life telling you what you can’t and shouldn’t do. It may even be your voice that you hear in your head saying what you absolutely can not do.

But Silverstein says after you listen to all of those well-meaning warnings, “then listen close to me – Anything can happen, child. ANYTHING can be.”