Ommmm... AAAAAH! Ommmm... AAAAAH!

We took the gals to the park for a pleasant afternoon romp. Sarah and I watched from the bench as they frolicked in the distance: scurrying, climbing, leaping, and jumping, as little urchins are wont to do.

It was time to go. They were engaged with something just out of our sight, shouting and gesticulating happily. As we approached, we saw the objects of their attention: a man and a woman sitting cross-legged in a small grassy patch, just off the main jogging path, meditating.

Oh.

Louise gushed, "They don't move at all!" June chimed in, "Yeah, I yelled at them at them, and they didn't move!"

Oh. We explained what meditation was and how one shouldn't bother them and... well, let's just get going.*

Do they have screaming kids in Nirvana?

* I confess, I didn't really feel that bad. I'm down with the meditating. And meditating outdoors in some secluded grotto sounds nice. But as I see it, there are two possible reasons for choosing to meditate in the middle of one of the most highly trafficked areas of the park:

1. They wanted to challenge their skills of concentration, in which case, screaming kids are the ultimate test of their meditative focus.
2. They wanted everybody to see them meditating, in which case, screaming kids are the perfect karmic antidote to their vainglorious ego-shackled look-at-me-transcend-existence santosha-braggadocio.
   

(I'm a cynic. I suspect the latter.)