It's Saturday morning, EARLY, though somehow my ten-month old son hasn't seemed to notice this. He hasn't developed weekend sensitivity yet. We are sitting in the park, playing jungle-jim, jungle-jim. He gets to be Jim and I am the be leopard-crawled over and whacked into submission. As I halfheartedly play, my thoughts drift to what I really want to be doing: reading, writing, editing some new channellings. This makes me frustrated and restless - after all, my spiritual growth is important, vitally important, and here I am banging plastic cups together. My thoughts gain momentum within this discontent and now they settle on my husband - why isn't he helping me anyway? Why can't he give me more time to focus on my spiritual development, he knows I have a column to write, why does he waste time on the internet? None of these gripes have any legitimacy to my situation, yet before long I am in a mood of resentment and so withdrawn from the present moment that my son may as well be playing with one of his stuffed toys.

Then I choose to choose. I remember to bring myself back to where I am. It takes some work to detach from my resentment, the thoughts are sticky and dense and almost have me trapped! But I take some deep breaths, straighten my spine and bring myself back into the full reality of this moment. With no other place to go, my mind begins to find stimulation and awe in the way my son's hands are moving, and I begin to actually see his reasoning process as it moves lightly from one thing to the next. The more I stay fully engaged, the more ideas begin to pop into my head about what next to do with him and soon we are both absorbed in each other's love and games.

In this state, I can appreciate the softness of the grass, the gentle sunlight and the pecking birds. Stillness, play and gratitude make my mind soft and suddenly I am flooded with insights. Wisdom, analogies and good questions abound in my mind and I realise 'This is spiritual growth'! It is not necessarily removing myself from my life to go somewhere and learn, especially when that isn't available or needs to be forced. It is being fully, but lightly, engaged with my life as each moment presents itself and being open to seeing the magic within every situation. Lenedra J Carrol, mother of the singer Jewel, suggests that when feeling anxious, action-driven or unsure of what to do next, we ask ourselves the deceptively simple question 'What time is it?' In other words, what is life telling us about this specific time? What is available and what is unavailable? With an active, playful, chatty son, a husband enjoying a well-earned lie-in and no immediate writing deadlines, what time is it? Is it time to read and write - no. Life is saying, through all its circumstances, that it's time to be with my son. That is where I am meant to be and where the magic of my next step is hidden.

The divine paradox is that the moment I chose to stop fighting what was, to rest within the moment and see where it took me, I got exactly what I had wanted in the first place. Insight abounded as I played with my son, my column developed quickly and easily and, having had such good games in the park, Joshua had an extra-long morning sleep allowing me ample time to get to my books.

Maybe things are not as they seem. Maybe we don't need to be forceful, strategic and obsessed with growth and productivity to get things done. Maybe, when we stop resisting it, life is really a walk in the park.

Angela Deutschmann is a spiritual teacher, learner and writer who works with individuals and groups in Johannesburg, Cape Town, Durban and White River. In these cities she offers spiritual growth clubs, workshops, talks and personal and group channelling.