Thursday, August 18, 2011

Back Seat Driver

For weeks now, I've had the weirdest sensation when I'm driving.  I drive a lot.  It's at least 20 minutes from where I live to most anywhere I go.  I spend a lot of time on the highway. 

At times, I will be cruising along ... deep in thought ... or singing really loud ... with the top down when I realize that I'm seeing the road from a somewhat different perspective.  It's as if I am looking over my shoulder ... from the back seat ... watching me drive but it's not really me ...

An out-of-body-experience kind of thing.

It's not really scary.  Actually it's peaceful & comforting.  Just a bigger-picture view ... through the windshield ... as the scenery changes.


A week ago ... it was Monday ... I settled in to watch a screener of a movie that had been sent to me by some people that I don't know ... that aren't even from Arkansas.  I had had it for a few days but had purposely waited until I had a block of time ... that could be uninterrupted.


The name of the movies is HAPPY NEW YEAR.  It blew me away.  Not sure where exactly ... in the story ... that the tears started flowing ... but by the time the final scene faded to the credits ... my face was wet from my silent tears ... and the emotions were so strong ... so deep ... that I was physically shaken.  You see ... it's a movie ... about touching lives ... and making a difference.


... and there was a line from a song ... that kept playing over and over ... in the back of my mind ...  I realized that I had been hearing it ... under the dialogue on the screen ... without being aware of it.  It wasn't a part of the soundtrack on the dvd ... it was part of the soundtrack in my head ...


.... in the end ... only kindness matters ...
Not sure when it started playing ... probably about the same time ... the tears started flowing.

I took a few minutes of silence  ... then I spoke outloud ... to my best friend ... because He's always in hearing range ...



Forgive us. 

That's all I could think to say.  And then I went to find the song ... because I really couldn't remember the rest of the words.  Imagine my surprise when I pulled up the official video ... and the opening scene was watching through the windshield ... as if over the shoulder ... of Jewell (or me) ... driving ... windshield wipers ... wiping away the rain ... as if they were tears.

Haunting.  That was the word I used to describe the movie ... and the feeling stayed with me ...  for most of the rest of the day.

It was later in the evening ... that the call came.  Someone that I care a lot about ... was standing on the sidewalk ... surrounded by family ... friends ... and strangers.  Watching.  As her world went up in flames. 

I am pretty sure it felt like an out-of-body experience ... to her ... from where she was standing.


In the days since a-week-ago-Monday ... I can't even begin to count the number of times we've said that she ... lost everything ... in the telling of the story ... the sharing of the news. 


Everything ... except her beautiful daughter ... her lively little dog.  Everything ... except her bright spirit ... her confident faith.  Everything ... except her friends.


It's hard to fathom ... starting out a new day ... with absolutely nothing ... other than the clothes on your back ... until it happens to you ... or you witness it firsthand in the life of someone you love.  You think you know ... but really ... you don't.


Friends rolled up their sleeves ... waded in and out of the pouring rain ... sorted through smoke filled stuff ... searching for any pieces of life-as-she-knew-it ... that could be salvaged.  Strangers showed up with boxes ... food ... cold drinks ... trucks ...


Whatever was needed ... was provided ... at exactly the right time.  The outpouring of love, support, assistance ... of kindness ... has been a tremendous blessing to all who have been a part of this story.


A restoration of faith in people ... more than one has made that observation ... and the song is still playing in my head ...


.... in the end ... only kindness matters ...

This morning I sat down to write.  Before I started, I went back to the official video of the song.  I was fully prepared for the images ... you know, the haunting opening scene of Jewell driving ... and me watching over her shoulder ... from the backseat ... I had already been blindsided by that one ... last week ... today it was just the words ... I wanted to be reminded of the words ...

And once again ... the tears are flowing ... not sure when they started .... probably about the time the view shifted from the windshield ... to what was going on outside of the car ...

Am I really so self-absorbed that I had forgotten ... the rest of the visual story?   Or is it just one more of those gentle nudges ... drawing me back ... to something important ... somethat that I'm not supposed to miss?

Walking wounded.  Everywhere.  In my circle friends.  In the circles that are touched by my ripples ... by their ripples ... as the impact of our words and actions ... flow beyond our vision ... past the windshield ... as people everywhere ... are either trapped inside the burning walls of their hearts ... or are standing on the sidelines ... as their world crashes ... and they think ... they've lost everything.

Other stories have unfolded ... in the lives of people that I care about ... over the last week.  Silly, shallow stories in comparison.  He said. She said. Everyone likes me better than you ... or you ... or you.  Nanana  boo boo.  Whatever.


Friendship ... that's the common theme in all of the stories ... of the past week ... of life.  And I've given a lot of thought to what it means to be a friend ... what it means to have a friend.

My friend who lost everything is the kind of friend who gives everything.

It's really no surprise that when the going got rough ... it was revealed that she had the best friends ... ever.  That's what I told her ... of course, she didn't need me to tell her ... she got it all on her own.

And I wonder ... what if it had been me?!?  Have I been the kind of friend who has selflessly given to others?  If I lost everything, would anyone show up to help me sort through the ashes?  If I came face-to-face with the "what comes around" from my "what goes around" would I like the reflection?

Sunday after church, we got all the way to McDonalds before Donald started talking to me about the grasshopper.  He said it was on the car again.  I reminded him that that was LAST Sunday.  He persisted ... annoyed & agitated.  I was equally frustrated. 

You see, I am ashamed to admit it ... but I had allowed myself to get mentally caught up in the superficial drama.  It was distracting me from ... what was really important.

Arms crossed and a little bit angry, he asked me if I wanted him to SHOW me the grasshopper.  I said sure ... go ahead.  That would put an end to the senseless conversation.  Once and for all.

I was looking through the windshield.  No grasshopper there.  Surely he could see that, too.

He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the car.  Looking back at me ... from the other side of the windshield ... he pointed to the little indention where the windshield wipers rest ... and sure enough ... there was a grasshopper.

Donald says it was the same one ... from the week before ... anything's possible, I guess. 

The next day ... Monday, again ... I had coffee with my mom.  She'd been on vacation.  So she told me her stories ... and I told her mine.  Not sure why, but I told her about the grasshopper ... both encounters.  She mused that she wasn't sure that she had ever actually seen a grasshopper up close.

I told her I would send her the story about the first grasshopper ... and what I discovered from that encounter.  (Hoppin' A Ride)  We both smiled.

Headed out the door ... reached over to put my things in the car ... the top was down, of course ... and came face-to-face with a ... backseat driver.

He was just hanging out there ... waiting on me.  It caught me by surprise ... and I called to my mom ... because I certainly didn't want her to miss the opportunity ... to see a grasshopper .. up close ... and personal.

Not sure what to make of it all ...  Everyone who knows me knows I don't believe in coincidences. And, yes, I think things happen for reasons. My experience has been that the real reasons are never the shallow, surface ones ... and probably most of the time we never actually discern what the real reasons were at all.

And 2 ...10 ... or 100 people can all be witnessing the same thing ... experiencing the same events ... and every single one of them comes away with a different account ... a variety of interpretations ... and lessons learned that were uniquely their own.

I have no idea why it was her house ... that the lightning struck.  Or why the grasshopper has moved from the other side of the windshield ... to the backseat ... 

I do know that my life has been forever changed by the experiences.


... in the end ... only kindness matters ...


(c) August 2011







Thursday, August 4, 2011

Hoppin' A Ride

Leaving church on Sunday ... I was feeling ... sort of in a funk.  I guess that's as good of a word as I can come up with to describe it.  Something weird happened ... during church ... and I was feeling unsettled ... a little
off-balance ... confused.

Actually ... the whole weekend had been a little awkward and uncomfortable ... as it often is when emotions that have been hidden away for a long time ... start demanding to be seen ... to be heard ... to be dealt with ... once and for all.

So as we were ... settling into the car ... on our way to pick up burgers for lunch.  I turned the key and looked up.  There he was ... perched prominently on the windshield ... with his back to me ... hopping a ride ... as if to say ...
you don't matter ...

Yeah ... like I needed the grasshopper to tell me ... that ...
I didn't matter.

Jessi & Donald got really excited about the grasshopper on the windshield.  They thought it was very cool ... and as we rode along ... they got more & more tickled by him.

Not sure how I know it was a "him" ... somehow I can't seem to imagine a grasshopper being a "she" ... but there must be some of both, I guess ... or the world would be devoid of grasshoppers.

As we rode down the highway between Ward & Cabot ... we were traveling at speeds that are common on secondary roads ... outside the city limits.  And the silly grasshopper ... just sat there ... enjoying the scenery ... and the ride.

I imagined him feeling the wind blowing his hair back ... totally abandoned to the moment. As if grasshoppers have hair.

I don't know much about grasshoppers.  My first thought was of Jiminy Cricket.  But he was ... a cricket ... not a grasshopper.  Crickets are somewhat related to grasshoppers ... but not really.

Crickets are mostly know for incessant chirping ... music to some ... annoyance to others.  Fighting, partying all night & "plowing a lot of fields" as one friend commonly referred to it.

So, you see.  There is a difference.

Grasshoppers make up their own dance steps and groove to their own special melody.  Moving to it's own unique rhythm and tune makes the grasshopper an advocate of intuition ... reminding us to listen to our inner voices.  He encourages us to listen to the stirrings of our hearts ... to act on our promptings.

Grasshoppers pretty much keep to the ground.   And they teach us things about being grounded like patience, stability, security.  So it was pretty darn amazing that he was up there on my windshield ... enjoying the ride. 

Guess someone told him it was time for him to ... go.  Or maybe He was telling me ... again.

Grasshoppers choose to visit those of us who are innovators, forward thinkers & those who progress through life in unorthodox manners.  I didn't make that up.  I found it ... and a lot more ... when I googled about grasshopper lore .

Grasshoppers recognize tremendous leaps of faith, impressive jumps ahead and constant forward momentum.  Wow!

... and to think, this grasshopper choose me ... and my windshield ... for his Sunday afternoon drive.

Maybe his riding with his back to me really had nothing to do with indifference.  Maybe he was just wanting me to figure it out for myself.  Reminds me of the old sled dog joke ... about the view never changing unless you are the lead dog ... not sure why ... guess maybe ... it has to do with a change in scenery ... or a new view on things ... perhaps.

He rode along for quite some time ... taking it all in ... before choosing his spot ... to hop off ... into a new place ... that looked promising to him ... somehow.

The choices before me ... at the moment ... are much like that ... each one will involve a great leap ... into new & unfamiliar territory.

Grasshoppers have two large eyes ... and three smaller eyes.  The large compound eyes are made up of many separate lenses ... that all work together ... to form the big picture.  Those are the eyes the grasshopper uses to see things. 

Scientists aren't sure how a grasshopper uses it's smaller eyes.

Maybe those smaller eyes are the ones that look inward ... seeing things intuitively ... beyond what the concrete world holds ... seeing the world with childlike wonder.

According to legend ... grasshoppers show up when we are longing for adventure ...when are ready to get out of the rut we've been stuck in ... when we are ready to find a little magic.

Pretty sure it was no coincidence that grasshopper showed up on my windshield ... exactly when I needed ... a word of encouragement.

I don't believe in coincidences ... everyone who knows me ... knows that.

Good luck and happiness ... to the Chinese.  Nobility and immortality ... to the Greek.  Messages of glad tidings ... to the Native American.  Seriously.  Grasshoppers are harbingers of good news ... and the person who crosses paths with a grasshopper will receive "profoundly joyful news".

Things are unfolding ... gradually ... neatly ... without fanfare ... the way things that have real meaning are want to do. 

Impatiently ... has given way to ... patiently ... waiting ... for what's coming next. 

You're almost there, MJ ... get ready to jump!


(c) August 2011

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Stones ...

It started with a photograph ... taken by a friend. 

It's odd, don't you think, to refer to people you don't know ... have never met ... as  friends ... because somehow you connected through social media ... and presto change-o ... you become  friends ... at least by today's standards.

This one may be a little different, though.  It's too soon to tell. 

He takes pictures of stones.   Beautiful photographs of walls ... and cliffs ... and little piles of rocks.  Natural formations that stand the test of time.  Longlasting ... well worn ... bearing the marks of weather ... harsh sun ... and storms.

If he understands ... stones ... then maybe ... he understands
other important things as well.

.... proper credit ... for the photograph ... to Thomas Watt ...

"The logic of painting the stones escapes me ..."

That was the caption he posted when he shared the photo. The image immediately resonated with me ... and his musing was thought provoking
as well ...

You see, they looked like rocks to me ... not stones. 

Stones ... well, stones are something entirely different.  Either way ... I get it ... the paint on the rocks ...

The blue paint ... is really simple.  There was no logic.  It was just random ... an accident ... the residual outcome of a decision to change ... something ... by someone ... somewhere ...

No real thought was given to the spatter ... I mean, seriously, they carried it outside to spray the bright, cheerful blue on whatever it was ... that way they really didn't have to be too careful ... as they put a fresh face on something that had become worn & tired  ... there was nothing there that could be damaged by the cover-up ... after all ...

It was just a bunch of rocks.  Or maybe, as he said ... they were stones.

Right away, I had to go look it up.  The difference between rocks ... and stones.

According to webster.com, a stone is "a concretion of mineral matter: rock".  That's the "A" part of the definition ... the "B" part says ... "a piece of rock for a specified function".

Stones ... are special like that ... they have purpose.

Concretion was an interesting word so   ... naturally... I looked it up ... too.

Concretion = something concreted. 

No surprise there.  It goes on to say that a concretion is "a hard usually inorganic mass like a bezoar found in a living thing" ... and then onto the "B" definition ... "a mass of mineral matter found generally in rock".

Stones ... are hard, inorganic masses ... with specific purposes ... found inside ... rocks.

Like a bezoar.  Of course.  Everyone knows about bezoars.

A bezoar is "any form of calculi found in the gastrointestinal organs" ... and here's the best part ... a bezoar ... is "believed by some ... to possess magical properties" ...

So stones ... are magic rocks.  Now we're getting somewhere.

And rocks are ...

The noun definitions ... in the order they are offered ... have to do with motion ... then music ... then a reference to a distaff.  A distaff refers to wool & flax ... it goes on to say it means ... a woman's work.

Maybe that's why I saw rocks ... in what he called stones.

I had to click on the fourth noun entry before I got to a definition that had any geological reference.  A rock is ... "a large mass of stone forming a cliff, a promontory or a peak".  And then the "B" definition ... "a concreted mass of stony material".

Makes you wonder ... which came first ... the stone?  Or the rock?

My friend ... the one who didn't get the shallowness of the paint ... but had the eye for the well-worn beauty beneath ... in the rocks ... the stones ... the journey.  He said it was ok for me to share his photograph here ... as long as I gave him ... proper credit.

I assured him ... that ... I always give ... proper credit ... for work done well. 

You see, it's not everyone that goes a little deeper ... below the surface ... beneath the paint ... too see the magic.  Whether it's a rock ... or a stone ... or a living thing ... the magic ... it's always ... waiting to be found ... within.

Recently another friend of mine had a birthday.  It was a significant one.  This is a friend that's been wandering in out of my life for over 20 years ...
a real-live, hug-ya-when-I-see-ya friend.

So for his birthday, I gave him a jar full of rocks. No wait ... I think maybe they were stones ... because they were special.  In the jar were large rough ones ... some shiny, polished ones ... and some that were more like pebbles.  Pebbles are simply small, well-worn ones.

There was a message that went along with the gift. About counting your blessings ... your Saturdays ... the good things in life.

It was a bit of risk ... to give him something ... like that ... I guess.  He's a guy, after all.  Still. He gets it.  And now every week, he spends a few minutes pondering ... his life ... his choices ... what's important ... what's stood the test of time ... what lies ahead ... as he takes a stone out of the jar.  He has decided to put each remembered rock into another jar ... establishing a balance of some sort. 

Last week he told me that some of his rocks were missing ... out of the emptier jar ... the one that he's moving them into ... one week at a time.  Seems his grandson has been helping him out ... returning the stones ...
to the original container.

Buying him a little more time.  A few more Saturdays.  That's what he said.  It made me smile.  And offers me so much hope ... to think that his grandson ... gets it ... at such a young age.

"You are hanging on to too many things, MaryJane." 

As soon as He said it ... I knew it was true ... and that it was time.  So the last week I have begun the process of clearing out clutter ... sorting through stuff ... and I came across that pesky little rock ... the one that was offered up as a replacement ... by a friend ... who accidently threw away the REAL magic rock ... that I found out there in her yard.

She really didn't get it ... not the magic rock thing ... not the friend thing ... either.  Still somehow she got the magic ... and I got the rock ...
the phony, replacement one.

.... it sort of makes you wonder ... is the magic really real ... for those who don't believe?  Or will it turn out to be yet another be-careful-what-you-wish-for story?  Things are never really as they seem.

The stone pondering ... it's been deep ... and very personal.  Lots of things have been taken out ... considered ... examined ... 

"It's time to go, MJ."

Another prompting ... urge ... that's getting stronger & stronger.  Not sure what that means ... or where it is ... that it's time for me to go.  All I can do is prepare ... for the next part of the journey ... as best I can.

So a few of the rocks I have unearthed ... re-discovered ... are going to be hanging around a bit longer. Some with a bright, new look ... a fresh coat of paint.  Like the ones in the photograph.  Others plain & simply ... themselves.

They make great paperweights ... doorstops ... and most likely will be essential to any really satisfying water-feature.  Others ... well, in some cases ... they are no longer meaningful ... or useful.  Their time has past.

So I am letting those go ... leaving them behind.  Some will remain part of those sturdy walls ... the ones that I have followed all the way to where they end ... they just stop ... unexpectedly.  The walls that I no longer need ... to protect me from things over there on the other side ... things that might sneak up on me ... catching me offguard ... unprepared ... ill-equpped to protect myself ... the walls that have been separating me from the life I want to be living ...

My friend ... the one with the keen eye ... he has some photographs of a wall ... exactly like that ... he's good ... very good.

I am winning the battles within ...
so there's no need to fear the enemies ... without.

Others are simply being scattered along the path ... to what's coming next ... waiting for whoever stumbles upon them next ...& picks them up ...

And a few ... deserve something more .. than casual dismissal. 

Those are my skipping stones ... flying through the air ... as I fling them ... then dancing across the water ... wonder how many lives will be touched by the ripples ...

... magic rocks ... that's what they are ... stones.


... and bein' lost is worth the comin' home ...
La la la la la la la la la ... on ... stones ...

(c) August 2011