No Way!

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Edith was a tiny toddler with an old lady’s name. She may have been small in size, but she was big in letting people know what she wanted (and didn’t want).

Edith was maybe two years old. Her mother seemed to be in her early 20s. The mother looked like maybe she was a punk or a traveling kid who’d settled down a bit after having a baby. Of course, we were in Northern New Mexico where one can settle down a little after having a kid without becoming a soccer mom. (I didn’t know Edith or her mother, so I’m pretty much making up stories about them based on the moment we spent in each other’s presence.)

My sibling and I encountered Edith and her mother at a hot spring. They were in the process of leaving as we arrived. At least the woman was ready to leave. She was already out of the water, dried, and dressed. Edith was still in the hot water.  Edith did not want to get out of the hot water.

The mother talked to Edith in a very calm voice. Edith, it’s time to get out of the water now. It’s time to dry off and get dressed.

Edith replied, No way!

My sibling and I got undressed and eased ourselves into the soothing warmth of the natural pool.

The mother continued to try to reason with the toddler. It’s time to go, Edith, she said. We have to leave now so we can get to the potluck in time.

No way! Edith responded.

Edith, her mother said, a hint of exasperation sneaking into her still calm and quiet voice, we decided that going to this potluck is what’s best for our family.

I wonder how much input Edith actually had when the decision to attend the potluck had been made. Had Edith actually agreed that attending the potluck was in the best interest of the family? Had Edith helped reach the conclusion that attending the potluck was better than lingering in the wonderful hot water?

Edith simply looked at her mother and repeated, No way!

The mother continued to speak to Edith calmly, repeating that it was time to go and they needed to leave now in order to get to the potluck. Edith never threw a tantrum, never screamed, never cried. She simply continued to voice her desire to stay by telling her mother No way! whenever her mother said it was time to go.

My sibling and I exchanged glances and silently wondered how this stalemate was going to end.

Finally Edith begrudgingly allowed herself to be lifted from the water. She allowed herself to be dried off and dressed, but we all knew she wasn’t happy about her truncated soak.

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now my (male) partner and I (a woman) have a travel trailer we can pull with our truck. We have a little piece of property, and when we're not traveling, we park our little camper there. I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

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