During yoga this morning, I became entranced by the sound of the group singing in monotones, each of us individually breaking down whatever blocks we were holding. I’ve experienced a lot of atonal music, but the connectivity of 10 people holding a tone or series of tones in one room over a period of a few minutes was overwhelming.
I later talked with a tax lawyer here who changed my current way of thinking about my business, its approach and its location. I appreciate speaking with lawyers and other high rationalists (like shrinks and accountants) because of their ability to clear through my own miasma, superstitions, and closely held (and often erroneous) beliefs.
Then I went to purchase a bike for my daughter at Canadian Tire, the Canadian version of K-Mart on good steroids. The staff there, all young and good-looking, were wildly helpful, for reasons that I cannot fathom. One associate came over to measure my daughter and look up all of the bike models and their availability. He then had training wheels installed on the bike for us while we shopped for such things as cat litter and a new overhead light for the car. When we picked up the bike and my daughter started riding it around, a female associate came over and showed my daughter how to negotiate the aisles. At the top of the stroke, my four-year-old faltered. The associate said something which later proved to be true: “None of the little kids learn how to ride here for some reason. They just can’t do it. But I’m sure that when they get home, they’re fine.”
Then, we took our daughter out for an evening ride and, sidewalk-crack by sidewalk-crack, she rode. It took time and confidence and praise and small pushes and a few falls but she did it. She rode. She rode.
A few days ago, we were doing some drawing on the living room table using color markers and copy paper. My daughter wanted to draw a rainbow – she used red, yellow, purple and green. Then she drew a picture of a person beneath the rainbow. She asked “Does G-d Have Rainbow Hair?”