The Om Child

So I was sitting in Luton airport waiting to be lovingly collected (having already waited an additional two hours or so for my delayed flight) and thought I'd use the time well by listening to some mantras. I'd spent the entire day up to this point panicking about returning to the UK (even though this time it is only a couple of days), so I realised I needed to sort myself out.

So there I was sitting on the blue padded bench, headphones in, legs crossed in front of me, lotus style. My hands were resting in my lap and my eyes were open as I watched people mill around me, taking random little twists and turns like a stream of walking butterflies. Nothing untoward or odd about me at all.

Except there's this kid opposite me, maybe about seven years old, nine at the most, and he takes one look at me and then pops his legs in front of him lotus style, closes his eyes and holds his fingers in a meditation position - index finger and thumb making a circle and the other fingers loosely extended - hands resting on his knees. A proper little Buddha.

So there he sits, peacefully in front of me and every so often, I notice that one eye opens and he peeks at me from under his fringe. Is he making fun, I wonder, or is he joining in? How can he possibly know what I am listening to? I decide to wink at him and he smiles broadly and keeps sitting like a little Buddha until I leave the airport.