We went to Springs today and did some running around. This means going in and out a variety of stores with a short wish list that requires frequent travel, a stop at a restaurant, and in this case, a matinee viewing of The Theory of Everything. Now I feel like I need to read at least some of Hawkings book, The Brief History of Time. Maybe if I put it on the "back of the toilet", I'll be forced into it eventually - a trick I like to use for hard to read material. This also means acquiring a hard copy.
There was a funny incident while we were riding back in the dark van and my dad pulled out his phone and started fiddling with it. My mother gave him a stressed warning and sank back into her seat. I glimpsed her out of the corner of my eye, mouth agape and hands to her mouth. I assumed she was maxing out on anxiety over our impeding doom, hurtling down the tiny highway while my father chose to text - something he never does. I was immediately annoyed with yet another incident of my mother's backseat driving and gave her some lip. She leaned forward and informed me she was flossing. It was one of those prime Byron Katie moments, when I had read everything from the closed position of the "I know" mind and acted in total innocence to an entirely imagined stimulus. A good lesson to the inaccuracy of perception and narrow focus that leads to so much unhappiness.
I changed the subject to "Bet on Your Baby", a very popular game show in the Philippines where people do exactly that, put their babies through crazy obstacles and make bets. All the while laughing at that false image in my head of my mother, mouth agape, fingers clutched to her face in horror. The unraveling of an idea into the grace of truth.
Which then asks the question, would it be so horrible for both situations to be true? And why do I feel the need to intercede on my mother's emotions, behaviors, and reactions? Time to focus on my own business and keep out of hers.