photo cred: https://www.ville-imperiale.com/napoleon/nice/la-place-garibaldi/
Over the weekend, Elio and I went to the park and played a rousing game of Zombie Hide And Seek. This is a game that Elio invented where the zombie (me) chases the cute little boy (Elio) and if the zombie catches the cute little boy, then the zombie must carry said cute little boy off to his zombie cave and put him down to wait to be eaten, but not immediately because the zombie needs to take a little nap after all that work of catching a little boy. So, before taking his lunch, and to savor what will surely be a fine meal cuz it’s not every day that you get to eat the delicacy of a cute little boy, the zombie falls asleep whereupon the cute little boy inevitably escapes from the zombie’s cave (again) and the zombie must therefore find the little boy anew if he wishes to have his lunch.
After 90 minutes of this zombie not eating his lunch business, both zombie and cute little boy had become quite famished and decided to abandon this morbid game of deprivation and actually seek some more reliable calories.
We ventured to one of our favorite outdoor cafes located at Place Garibaldi—a square honoring the birthplace of the Italian revolutionary, general, and patriot, Giuseppe Garibaldi. In case you need a history refresher, this is the guy who is credited as Italy’s greatest national hero, a guy who united Italy to what we know of as Italy today, and a true master of strategic advantage.
Elio and I decided to go to this particular café in Place Garibaldi partly because it was close to the park but also because they serve very good sourdough pizzas and, dare I say, the best burger in town. It’s the kind of burger that you can’t put down, both because it’s so delicious that you can’t stop eating it, but more urgently because it’s so messy that it becomes “strategically advantageous” to just keep it nestled in your hands until you have enjoyed every last morsel.
After eating this burger, one is left in desperate need to wash their hands (and perhaps entire face … and maybe shirt). No, a simple dinner napkin won’t do. In fact, 5 dinner napkins won’t do. And if after one has finished Nice’s finest burger and is in dire need to freshen up but the café bathroom is occupied, one may be forced to venture instead to the nearby fountain that circles the formidable statue of Giuseppe Garibaldi leaning on his sword in triumph, so that as one washes the grease from their face, he may look down upon you, reveling in a worthy burger victory, won by strategic advantage no less, and nod his silent approval, probably while thinking, “Yes, this my legacy to celebrate such a victory.”
Though Elio and I shared some pizza and fries, we noticed a guy at the table next to us who was tackling the infamous burger. We are always working on good restaurant manners with Elio so when Elio saw the guy next to us wrestling with his burger, he commented on the grease dripping down his chin and mentioned how he lacked resto manners. Having personally eaten this burger, I offered a little compassion as I mentioned how difficult it was to keep this meal polite.
As we were leaving the cafe and walking under the approving but stoney gaze of Giuseppe “Strategic Advantage” Garibaldi, Elio announced that he’d like to see something really incredible that day. At the risk of being a little didactic, I told him that if he had the eyes to see it, he would surely witness something extraordinary, that we are continually surrounded by the miraculous, the sublime, and the unbelievable, it’s just that often we don’t take the time to notice.
Later that night as I was putting him to bed—the lights off, our list of gratitudes recited— there was a moment of quiet where I could sense that Elio’s brain was whirring. Soon his little voice broke the pregnant silence.
“Papa, I didn’t see anything amazing today.”
“If you have the eyes to see them, there are incredible things happening all the time. With the right kind of vision, everything is amazing.”
“Whaddya mean, Papa?”
So, perfectly poised for a bedtime story, I retold an abbreviated version of the Shiva Shakti story I love to tell …
In the beginning, even before the Universe began, there was only Shiva and only Shakti. Shiva was all consciousness and spirit and Shakti was all movement and matter. She was the dancer and he was the watcher.
All Shiva wanted was to continually watch his beloved Shakti with his lidless 3rd eye positioned in the middle of his forehead. All Shakti wanted to do was to dance for her beloved, continually moving and enticing his awareness.
Well, their love grew and grew until they felt that they were on the verge of transforming in some incredible way but didn’t know exactly how until one day, Shakti decided to dance around behind Shiva and place her hands over his eternally open 3rd eye.
Boom! Never had the balance between consciousness and energy been so one-sided and suddenly, everything exploded in a massive ball of unfettered energy. Shakti was reeling through space but eventually found terra firma on earth but was devastated when she couldn’t see her beloved Shiva. As she roamed the earth, she thought she heard his voice in the babbling of the brook and in the rustling of the trees, but each time she looked and called out to him, she saw nothing and this made her increasingly very, very sad.
One day, she was walking and everything on the earth was so alive and beautiful: the birds were chirping, the sun was shining, the bugs were creeping (read: 6-year-old audience) and everything seemed so perfectly perfect. Then, she heard it again, the sound of Shiva’s voice but this time, Shakti decided that she would do something different. This time, instead of calling and looking outward for Shiva, she sat down, closed her eyes, and went inside.
Soon, she heard the sound of her beloved again and the more she listened, the louder it became. Eventually, she could hear the unmistakable and steady voice of her beloved Shiva, “Shakti! Babe! Shakti!”
Elio: “Did he REALLY say that?!”
Me: “Shh! It’s MY story, I can tell it how I want to.”
Shiva continued, “Babe, I’m right here. I’ve never left. Nothing in the Universe can exist without me the same way nothing can exist without you.” Then after a long pause, Shiva said, “Look what we made with our love.” At this, Shakti opened her eyes again and she no longer saw ordinary birds and bugs and sunshine but rather saw herself and shiva dancing in the miraculous form of every object in the Universe. Suddenly, every object in the entire Universe was amazing.
“What?! You mean the birds are God?” Elio said with incredulity
“Yep.”
“Bugs are God?!”
“Yep, and guess what else is God.”
“What.”
“The guy at the restaurant eating the sloppy cheeseburger with grease dripping off his face is God.”
With this image in our brains, the darkness exploded with unrestrained laughter and for several minutes we were both seized with the spasm of hilarity, tears streaking our faces, our hands clutching our stomachs as if to control this bucking bull of truth meets absurdity.
It took several minutes before we could calm down enough for Elio to fall asleep. And as I lay next to Elio listening to his soft breathing deepen into sleep, I silently prayed that he’d wake up the next day, rub the sleep from his eyes, and see a little better the miraculousness of each dawning day.
May we all learn to see the Divine in everything we encounter, first within ourselves and then in short order everyone else. And may we learn to love and laugh as our own story of waking up unfolds, invariably steeped in both truth and absurdity.