A Bookworm on Broadway

I saw a boy on the street today while I was walking home. He cradled a sizable stack of books in his arms, holding them just as a young child would his favorite stuffed animal to sleep with. He was not a particularly handsome boy, there was nothing out of the ordinary about him that would have normally caught my eye, except the way he was holding the books and one thing more-- the look of complete and utter joy on his face. I could tell the joy he was experiencing had something, if not everything, to do with those books. I thought it was such an odd, yet refreshing, picture to take in. Rarely do I see a teenager (or so he appeared) get excited about anything, much less, a stack of books. So, I carried that picture with me in my mind the rest of the way home and thought about the boy all the while. I wondered, what it was in those books that could put such a smile on that boy's face. Was it that they entertained him? Was it that they provided an escape to other worlds or deeper dimensions of his imagination? Was it that they contained knowledge he was seeking? I could only speculate. What my conclusion of the matter came to be is that I had no idea. But, what I do know is that it didn't really matter either way. Why? Because either way, the words written in them and the boy, himself, would become one and the same.

Who he will be in the future will be determined, in part, by what he has taken in from the world around him, as well as what was written in those books. They will be absorbed ...their messages forever grafted into his DNA--shaping his perspectives on life and death and everything in between. Maybe that was the source of joy, then, knowing that he had just taken one more step towards the person he is to be and maybe he was excited to catch a glimpse of what that person looks like. Maybe my conclusion is wrong and I am making something simple into something complex, but it was a thought--and it was one that made me think about the things I have taken in, the words from voices past that have moved me and have been grafted into my DNA along the way, molding me into the person I am. It is fascinating to reflect on. But, what is even more fascinating to me is how much of the process of absorbing our world of messages is done without us ever being truly conscious of it happening. Makes me want to really be mindful, then, of what I surround myself with...what messages I allow to cross my path...to the extent that I can...so that the better, brighter things, the things that inspire, the things that strengthen, the things that challenge, the things that improve are the things that become one with me.

Perfect Moments: catch 22

Today's moment moved like a snail...in slow motion



Today I was in a crowded place, filled with noise. Babies were crying, music was playing, people were laughing. Everything around me was in fast motion. Suddenly, everything slowed down and I was able to see each individual person separate from the others. I studied them all carefully and was able to catch a brief glimpse into each person's story---who they were, why they were there, what kind of life they had lived, what kind of life they might live in the future. It was a very surreal, vivid moment.

Even though it happened in a split second, I thought about it most of the rest of my day---what people were wearing, their features, the way they walked. Each person, innumerably different from the other, yet underneath it all, there are these common threads that keep the stitches of the fabric of humanity intact. Although it, for certain, happens in varying degrees and circumstances, every single person that passed me today has at one point experienced loss, kindness, cruelty, hope, hopelessness, elation, excitement, and a myriad of other states of being and emotions. It was in thinking on this when I felt like I had been given a great gift--the ability to see that there is not one of us that can say, "I am special." Because we all are...but that, in turn, means that we also are not. It is a catch 22. The greatest potential for peace lies in our ability to acknowledge and appreciate our differences while we increase our awareness of and reflection on our "sameness".

Reflections

....just a regular cup o' joe? I think not....creativity can turn a cup of coffee into a work of art...

As promised, I wanted to write a brief reflection on last month's March Madness poetry run. I chose to do it because for some reason the creative monster inside of me had awakened. There are times in life when it seems like if you don't create something, pour yourself out into something...you will bust! That's what I was feeling...and it continues. I chose poetry to be my outlet because it is my first love. I forgot how much I loved it during my years in college and teaching....too busy. My life is so slow now, I have had time to fall in love once more. So thankful.

All that said, I gained two important gems from the March Madness experience. The first gem I gained is a better understanding of what matters to me. The topics I write on are the same things that are at the core of who I am....my love for my husband and my son, devotion, simple pleasures, and a desire for a more just, ethical world. The poetry that comes stems naturally from these things. The second gem? I learned that the most beautiful insights in life can come from the most mundane. There is meaning in every moment if we sit, be still, and create meaning. My challenge to myself was to write a new poem, everyday for the rest of the month of March. I did that. Now, my challenge to myself is to continue to create meaning from the mundane for the rest of my life. I am up to the challenge. And you?