We’re walking to our favorite Columbian restaurant on a Sunday morning, a big breakfast ahead of us, M-ito walking between us. I don’t remember what we’re talking about, it’s already been a week but I remember the punch line. I ask M-ito, “What’s a human being?”
“That’s easy,” he says. “It means you’re human and you’re bee-ing. Right?”
Mom-ita shakes her head waiting for me to give my lesson. I can’t help myself. “That’s right,” I say. “You have to bee, not do. We’re not human doings we’re human beings. We have to just be sometimes and not always do.”
Mom-ita can’t help herself and starts to laugh. She knows just being is one of things I have difficulty with in my life. I’m working on it, though.
“What?” I say. “I think what he said is important – it’s wonderful.”
“Uh huh,” M-ito says and grabs my hand, yanking my arm forward to try and pull me off balance. “Yeeeaahhh!” he says, waiting for me to pull him back like a rubber band stretched to its limit.
Yeeeaahhh!
