Watching Lucas lay down on the floor is both a current delight and a delight-to-be (and this its own cause for delight!). As with many Lucas-isms, he started doing this suddenly and obsessively, then stopped, just as suddenly and presumably just as obsessively (that he hasn’t done it since seems to me to be evidence of this). He lowers slowly, deliberately, pausing numerous times to gather and process incoming sensory data.
Upon touching down, he struggles to get comfortable (ah, just so!) and I wonder if I should break the news to him that I still have to work at getting comfortable at the age of 37. A lifelong practice of seeking comfort, and then of seeking more comfort, and then…the recursion just goes on and on and on. The delight-to-be consists of the anticipation of finding him fast asleep in the middle of the oddest places, of his somehow making the oddest angles work. There’s a metaphor within his flexibility, his willingness to work with the floor, with or without carpet, in rooms both light and dark, noisy and quiet, whatever the environment, to meld into, retaining while changing.
He’s twice preceded this ritualized motion by gently and deliberately placing a pillow on the floor, ho boy, and how did he everlearn to do that?!