Overcoming Hurdles

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My friend Anne doesn’t ‘do’ computers. But no hurdle is high enough to stand in Anne’s way;  the one she cleared Sunday evening  — of tracking down her long lost friend ‘me’ —  took over three months and help from her husband and oldest daughter.

It had been twenty-four years since Anne and I had talked.  And before that, ten.  Two conversations in the space of thirty-four years is scary witness of the fragility of personal relationships.  Once a close friend,  Ann served as one of my three bridesmaids; she was a staple of high school years, though seeds of friendship were first sown in the sixth grade Camp Fire group which my mother led.   I had forgotten this last connection until Anne reminded me of it Sunday night.  But, of course, the intervening years and physical distance lulled me into forgetting something more important.

While I was forgetting, Anne has been in the business of making connections.   That’s how Anne approaches each day — she wakes up and says out loud to God, “Okay God, what are we going to do together today?” I’m not kidding.  And I don’t think Anne is either.  Because Anne lives her life doing one good deed after another.

Anne littered our two-hour conversation with evidence, though not to make a case.  She talked in the matter-of-fact way of catching me up on the last 34 years of her life.    Until recently, Anne devoted  herself to the care of an elderly woman.   They had no ties to one another, but a tie was built, as the eighty-year old grew to depend upon Anne’s time.

As I write, Ann has a young mother and an infant living with her — Anne offers free care to the infant so that the young mother can work.  And there have been eleven other  people before this, people who needed a helping hand and a place to call home.

A few weeks ago Anne ran into a woman in K-Mart, while picking up some little item.  She noticed a customer with a shopping cart full of  household goods.  The cart proved catalyst for good conversation — one sentence led to another before the woman told Anne she was new in town, that she was buying the household items due to her recent move.   A veteran of twelve moves herself, Anne convinced her fellow K-Mart shopper to empty her cart of those items which Anne had at home — then the woman allowed her daughter go with Anne (the stranger) to Anne’s house, so that the woman’s daughter could bring back Anne’s offering.

Anne makes light of the way she lives.  But after our conversation, I began to wonder:  What would the world come to if we had more Anne’s — if we had more strangers — or even close friends and family — like Anne?  It was news of Daddy’s death which caused Anne to overcome the hurdle Sunday night.  She tracked me down because she had read of Daddy’s death and wanted to let me know how very sorry she was.  When she heard the news about Mother, she let me know how she had loved spending time at my house growing up, how Mom and our house had been her refuge.

All that to say this:  We can never know how our lives will impact another — for good or ill.  Nor do we realize the incredible power we hold to do good for each other.  And even when aware of the simple good we do —  like making others feel welcome in our home as Mother did — even then, we can’t  fully appreciate the good that will someday grow from our own.

Good ripples through life, without boundaries.  Good overcomes hurdles.  Good even sneaks up to catch us unaware — only after we broke our connection Sunday evening did I realize… that I had been Anne’s good deed for the day.

Unpacking Life Write Now

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How difficult it is to leave behind the familiar…and how equally difficult it is to return home to everyday responsibilities.

For a few days, I live suspended between vacation and home.  And though I’m quick to empty the suitcase, I’m less disciplined when it comes to unpacking my life — you know, the sorting of life experiences — taking stock of what the world is making of me … and what I am making of the world.

For whatever reason, I don’t possess the genetic make-up of keeping life simple.   So my packed-full life works against me, to compress and shape me in imperceptible ways.  Unless I unpack life regularly, I risk losing something valuable — perhaps an answer to prayer or some insight on truth.  Even an essential part of myself.  My saving grace has been my off-and-on again practice of ‘morning pages.’

Morning pages were created by Julia Cameron, author-teacher of The Artist’s Way.   As their label suggests, they are written each morning and kept in a private journal.  They consist of three pages in longhand with the first thoughts of our days, like the dreams we wake with, the worries which nag  us or the wondering of whether we paid some bill or not.  More brain-drain than art, they grant freedom to write whatever comes to mind.  Nothing goes on the shelf for later.

Included as side-notes in her book are pearls of wisdom strung together;  these extol the practice of unpacking life:

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters, compared to what lies within us.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance, they find their own order…the continuous thread of revelation.” — Eudora Welty

“It always comes back to the same necessity: go deep enough and there is a bedrock of truth, however hard. – May Sarton

“To know what you prefer instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul alive.” –Robert Louis Stevenson

“Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose.” – Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

“Slow down and enjoy life.  It’s not only the scenery you miss by going too fast—you also miss the sense of where you’re going and why.” – Eddie Cantor

“Often people attempt to live their lives backwards:  they try to have more things, or more money, in order to do more of what they want so that they will be happier.  The way it actually works is the reverse.  You must first be who you really are, then, do what you need to do, in order to have what you want.” — Margaret Young

“The life which is not examined is not worth living.” –Plato

“He who knows others is wise; he who knows himself is enlightened.” — Lao-Tzu

Write now:  I’m wondering how these folks unpacked life.

Tally Ho Hum

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Steam Clock - Gastown in Vancouver

There’s been a whole lot of ‘Tally Ho’ the last thirteen days.  And today was to be no different.

We were going to tour my sole vacation ‘must-do’ — Victoria and The Butchart Gardens.  My husband had built our trip around these by adding two extra days in Vancouver.

Plans fell into place like clockwork, with a tour company who specializes in local whale watching.   In waters around Vancouver, it’s not unusual to spot Humpbacks, Gray Whales and Orcas this time of the year.  And another chance to be near whales in their natural habitat sounded a perfect way to travel to Victoria.

Walking into the cool morning light, we arrived at the dock.   First.  After checking in with the tour operator, we bought a sandwich to share on the boat.   I didn’t want to  spend any of our 4.5 hours on the island eating lunch, once we arrived in Victoria at 1:00 PM.

Looking back, there were warning signs.  Had this been a movie, perhaps JAW’s music would have accompanied the signs.  Waters were choppy round Vancouver.   All other whale-watching tour operators canceled today’s tours.  Our tour operators wore serious expressions as we boarded.  “No going up top,” they told us, as we had at Glacier Bay.  Instead, we had to stay seated below, to keep one hand on the rail at all times.

One grew seasick anyway.  The rest of us held it together.  But forty minutes into our trip, something caused one engine to shut down.  One moment we’re rough-riding high seas — the next we’d slowed to a hum, with waves slapping our boat silly.

Wasting no time, the captain turned the boat around.  With a nervous smile, our nature guide delivered the bad news:  We were limping back to port with one good engine.  He was sure the operator would ‘comp’ us for our trouble.  But as it turned out, there was no way to compensate the loss for those leaving Vancouver tomorrow.  Like us.  So we took our credit and went back to the hotel.  To regroup.

Our regrouping  involved eating our picnic lunch inside our nice hotel room, going out for a quick walk and coming back for nice nap in the best bed I’ve had since leaving home.  Then we went out for dinner at a nice restaurant and walked around some more and now I’m here.

From what I can tell about Vancouver, it’s a nice place, a very livable city, full of apartments and young beautiful people who wear sandals and shorts in 68 degree weather.   Being a young city, most downtown living spaces are skyscrapers, reminding me in some odd way, of those on The Jetsons. I was glad to see a few old survivors mixed in, which kept my eyes grounded and alert.

But as nice as Vancouver is, I’m content with the way I spent my afternoon.  No tally-ho touring today.  Just a lowly ho-hum nap which proved good rest for the right knee I injured on Day Two of our vacation — when I forgot I was old rather than young — out-of-shape rather than in — and tally-hoed up a vertical hill that was mankind’s earliest form of skyscraper.

Tomorrow, it will be me limping to my home port on one good knee.