Learning to Enjoy the Moment
At a family wedding years back, I decided to take the microphone and acknowledge my love and gratitude to my brother, David, via a longwinded, but heartfelt speech I wrote about him. Granted, David couldn’t sit still. All he wanted to do was dance and make song requests to the DJ. This was probably not the perfect moment to show him my appreciation, but I couldn’t keep my feelings inside.
Looking at David who was standing with me, I began reciting my love. About a minute into my speech, he whispered in my ear and said “Bunny Hop”. I smiled and politely dismissed his request because, after all, I was announcing my grand love for him. Surely this was meaningful to me at the time, so I kept going. After a bit, David spoke up again, “Bunny Hop”. There was laughter from the audience and I grew slightly embarrassed and pressured. It was so important to me to express this and with that I kept going all the while walking over David’s desire to dance. Of course, he bent toward me again and spoke louder and slower so I was sure to understand. “Bunnnnnnyyyy Hoppppp!” Giggles rumbled from the crowd. I tied up my speech the best I could to save my pride. By then it was David’s audience. They were cheering for him. He again stood as the wise one, the man of the hour! What I realize now is the point I was trying to read out loud was actually being made in real time. He saw the moment on a dance floor for what it was, and he already knew I loved him. There was a DJ behind us, people wanted to dance and celebrate and David knew the perfect thing to do at a wedding was to Bunny Hop!
I was completely humbled by him again. The bittersweet kind of humble, the kind from a wise and gentle teacher, who uses real life as the tutor. I turned to the DJ, smiled and chuckled on top of my words, “Bunny Hop! David wants to Bunny Hop!” The Bunny Hop was the perfect way to honor his leadership. I followed his sweetly familiar, uncoordinated movements with kinship and silliness as we lead the bunny hop parade around the room.
To take the time and “Bunny Hop!” throughout our days, or to take opportunities to be spontaneous and silly is part of what makes life so full and exciting. David reminds me to stop and be silly all the time and I will always love him for those teachings. Such lessons come from a man with a cognitive level of a 3-year-old and the wisdom of a 100-year-old!
Keep your ABILITY vision glasses on! Honor natural talents. Be inspired!