Whatever we do lays a seed in our deepest consciousness, and one day that seed will grow. ~Sakyong Mipham

My younger son was upset with me last week as we drove off for a “Mom and Me” outing to Santa Cruz.

He was out of school for Ski Week and we had made plans to do something each day leading up to his birthday on Saturday. Tuesday’s planned outing was a leisurely drive down Highway 1 to Santa Cruz for lunch and new Van’s.

I had just made a cup of coffee and was scrolling through social media while waiting for him to get out of bed.

As I scrolled, I saw a post from a friend asking if any of his Santa Cruz friends were headed north. He was looking for a ride for his 16-year old daughter to his sister’s house in Burlingame.

I paused. We were headed to Santa Cruz for the day and would be returning to Burlingame by 3 pm; I could easily help.

On one hand, it felt a little odd to pick up someone we didn’t know; on the other hand, the world is small: his 16-year old daughter was also the cousin of my son’s friend.

I sent a message to him and told him we were headed to Santa Cruz and that I was happy to drive his daughter up on our way home. We had already made plans and our hearts were set on a Texas Two Step from Betty’s.

His message back was one of surprise and gratitude.

As we backed out of the driveway, I mentioned to my son that we were going to give a friend’s daughter a ride back to Burlingame with us.

“Today is supposed to be just you and me,” he said.

“It still is,” I replied.

“I don’t want a stranger in the car,” he said.

“She’s your friend’s cousin. She’s not a stranger.” I explained.

“Our day is ruined,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Nothing has changed. Our plans are still intact. It is just a ride.” I stated.

I told him I like to help others and that I’d feel bad knowing we were able to help but didn’t.

I brought up the virtues of karma, the Golden Rule, and the Law of Attraction; I reminded him that what you put out to the Universe comes back and knowing that, my preference is positive rather than negative energy.

He grunted: he knew I was right.

The drive down Highway 1 was gorgeous: the sun shimmered off the blue ocean, not a cloud in the sky. The fields were green and lush with wide bursts of yellow wildflowers covering much of the landscape. It was breathtaking.

We drove in companionable silence until we arrived in Santa Cruz; my son rolled down his window and breathed in the fresh air.

“I want to live here,” he said. I agreed, happy to be back on good terms with him.

We bought shoes. We ate lunch. We talked.

“Mom, will you ever run out of ideas of things to write about?”

I laughed: “No, never.”

“Why?”

“Because there is always something happening in life; there is always a story to tell and a lesson to learn.”

We met up with our passenger and made our way home. The chatter and the energy of a 16-year-old girl are much lighter compared to the quiet, sulkiness of teen boys. My son joined in as our conversation shifted to music and hip-hop artists. We dropped her off at her destination and headed home.

Later that evening, I had to pick up my older son in Belmont; he was there watching his friend play in a basketball tournament. As I sat in the car, outside the gym, I texted him to let him know I was parked and waiting for him.

When he arrived at the car, the car wouldn’t start. I was driving my Mom’s car and since it hadn’t been driven in a while, the battery died.

My heart raced. I felt a wave of panic. I wasn’t sure what to do.

As I sat trying to start the car, two men, coming out of the basketball game, heard me trying to turn the engine. They were kind enough to pop the hood and give the car a jump start. The car was running in a matter of minutes. I was grateful for their help.

When we got home, I asked my younger son if he remembered our discussion earlier that morning, about helping others. He did.

I asked if he remembered our discussion about things to write about. He did.

I told him about the car trouble and how I had received help from two strangers, now friends: Jigor and Sam.

His eyes widened. He understood.

“Karma, Mom. It was karma. What goes around, comes around.”

I can plant and nurture the seeds; the learning and growth come from him.

I am just glad to see it taking root.