I picked up a card the other day at small store in the Old Town section of Lansing, Michigan. The card states it is a tree free greeting implying only recyclables have been used in its creation. Such a thing is a plus.
What really caught my attention was that the exterior envelop contained the following inscription:
THERE ARE STILL A FEW REMNANTS OF MAGIC LEFT IN THIS WORLD
What a great thing to say. What a hopeful thing to say.
Do I believe in wizards wielding wands, crones stirring despicable ingredients and hope against hope kids turning time back magic? No. Do I believe in a twinkle in the eye do a good random deed magic? Ubetcha. Do I believe in the magic of a word well spoken? Yes, yes I do.
The magic left is this world is a combination of the passion and good that is within our hearts; it is manifested in the good we act on. A kind word, a hopeful (hope-filled?) note or an act that is for the betterment of the world no matter how small and unseen; these are all magic.
Dig out that remnant of magic within yourself. Act with magic before the sun sets.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
A New Tweak
Blogger has come up with a new tweak. If you want to follow by e-mail and just get updates when I post I gather you just type an e-mail address in and viola, when I post you get it. Given my sporadic posting this might be a better way to go to really see what I am saying. The gadget is to the right side of the blog.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Day 2 Max and Trauma
April 22, 2011
My grand vision for this blog currently is to finish my stories of the beach and reviewing the components of On Caring by year’s end. With my having taken on the role of school board member in a community with a large multi-million dollar budget deficit my time at the computer will be sparse. At least the time I spend at the computer for my own purposes will be rare. Thus while it is my vision, it may not come to be.
I will however note here things in passing that catch my attention. On Tuesday of this week the episode of Parenthood on NBC dealt with a teen being involved in a drunk/drugged driving accident. After the wreck she was taken to hospital. The family gathered together at hospital to await word. I have been at a number of these gatherings being part of a large extended family. (Someday I will talk about the pot luck at the funeral home during one of my family funerals, it is both one of the saddest and most wonderful memories of what family means for me.)
While the Braverman television family awaited word from the surgery on the prodigal teen Amber, Max the child with ASD lost it. He had a complete raging meltdown in the waiting room. Max to the untrained eye, that is someone who doesn't live with Asperger's on a day to day basis, became irrational. The story developed that he had been promised pancakes as a motivator for him to go and wait at the hospital. When the hospital stayed exceeded what he could tolerate he lashed out in a logical but clearly inappropriate manner. Max even implied that whether his cousin Amber died or not should not stop his trip for pancakes because he and his father were not doctors and their presence was therefore of no aid or relevance. Strictly and clinically speaking this was true. Obviously this was viewed as hurtful by all the non-ASD folks in the room.
The character of Adam who in the story is Max’s father struggled with this and with many other issues during the hour. There came a point however when he tried to explain to Max what the gathering in the waiting room had really meant and tried to explain empathy. My eyes filled with tears. The disconnect between what I define as empathy and what my oldest son Primus understands as caring for others was once as wide a gulf as depicted on that show. Eventually Max asks his Dad if he is mad at Max for having Aspergers. I misted up again. I have lived this argument in my own head many, many times.
Time has changed my son. He seems to have reached a point where he has created scripted responses to emotional situations to try and work his way through them. He has learned patience and he has learned to remove himself from situations where he might get caught up by miscues in reading others' emotions. The hope is that the television series will deal with Max’s approach to living in a world of neurotypicals who sail the world by the constellations of emotions.
I guess what I am trying to say is that in the moment when Max asked his Dad “Are you mad at me because I have Aspergers?” I felt the barb wire pull tight around my heart. You try and try to reframe constantly and knowingly work with the situation and with the aspects of who your child is. Still there is always the fear that you are reacting to the condition and not the person. More importantly there has always been the fear that my actions no matter how well intended somehow might be perceived by my son to mean I somehow think less of him because he has Aspergers. This is something that is as far from the truth as it could be. My life and feelings are painted broadly and his are much more nuanced and exacting. I hope we always find ways to bridge our two worlds. I think more than anything that is what Adam is seeking in Parenthood.
My grand vision for this blog currently is to finish my stories of the beach and reviewing the components of On Caring by year’s end. With my having taken on the role of school board member in a community with a large multi-million dollar budget deficit my time at the computer will be sparse. At least the time I spend at the computer for my own purposes will be rare. Thus while it is my vision, it may not come to be.
I will however note here things in passing that catch my attention. On Tuesday of this week the episode of Parenthood on NBC dealt with a teen being involved in a drunk/drugged driving accident. After the wreck she was taken to hospital. The family gathered together at hospital to await word. I have been at a number of these gatherings being part of a large extended family. (Someday I will talk about the pot luck at the funeral home during one of my family funerals, it is both one of the saddest and most wonderful memories of what family means for me.)
While the Braverman television family awaited word from the surgery on the prodigal teen Amber, Max the child with ASD lost it. He had a complete raging meltdown in the waiting room. Max to the untrained eye, that is someone who doesn't live with Asperger's on a day to day basis, became irrational. The story developed that he had been promised pancakes as a motivator for him to go and wait at the hospital. When the hospital stayed exceeded what he could tolerate he lashed out in a logical but clearly inappropriate manner. Max even implied that whether his cousin Amber died or not should not stop his trip for pancakes because he and his father were not doctors and their presence was therefore of no aid or relevance. Strictly and clinically speaking this was true. Obviously this was viewed as hurtful by all the non-ASD folks in the room.
The character of Adam who in the story is Max’s father struggled with this and with many other issues during the hour. There came a point however when he tried to explain to Max what the gathering in the waiting room had really meant and tried to explain empathy. My eyes filled with tears. The disconnect between what I define as empathy and what my oldest son Primus understands as caring for others was once as wide a gulf as depicted on that show. Eventually Max asks his Dad if he is mad at Max for having Aspergers. I misted up again. I have lived this argument in my own head many, many times.
Time has changed my son. He seems to have reached a point where he has created scripted responses to emotional situations to try and work his way through them. He has learned patience and he has learned to remove himself from situations where he might get caught up by miscues in reading others' emotions. The hope is that the television series will deal with Max’s approach to living in a world of neurotypicals who sail the world by the constellations of emotions.
I guess what I am trying to say is that in the moment when Max asked his Dad “Are you mad at me because I have Aspergers?” I felt the barb wire pull tight around my heart. You try and try to reframe constantly and knowingly work with the situation and with the aspects of who your child is. Still there is always the fear that you are reacting to the condition and not the person. More importantly there has always been the fear that my actions no matter how well intended somehow might be perceived by my son to mean I somehow think less of him because he has Aspergers. This is something that is as far from the truth as it could be. My life and feelings are painted broadly and his are much more nuanced and exacting. I hope we always find ways to bridge our two worlds. I think more than anything that is what Adam is seeking in Parenthood.
Day 1
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Yesterday I turned 55 years of age. I was born in a time when the apex of technology was a large rectangular TV screen that got three channels and a party line telephone. I now have a cellular phone that streams video and can search the internet. When I was a kid I wandered the fields behind my house and played army often recreating what I had seen on Combat or some other battle show that had been on television the night before. Now my kids play video games until their thumbs are ungodly strong and their bellies match the guys at Moe’s bar.
The surface of the world has changed but the world itself has not. It remains a rock in space with life forms tentatively clinging to its surface. I am a part of this rock and it is part of a larger series of rocks and together with more rocks and gases this existence spreads far beyond the imaginings of even the brightest of my fellows here. My being is while not for naught, it is damn close to naught in any real sense of the immensity of creation.
In aging I am challenged with the question of meaning in my life. What I can tell you is that I feel best when I have acted selflessly. Really. Such acts don’t happen often. My goal for this year is to make those acts just a little larger part of my life. This is day 1 of my year of being 55. My hope is to make this year matter.
Yesterday I turned 55 years of age. I was born in a time when the apex of technology was a large rectangular TV screen that got three channels and a party line telephone. I now have a cellular phone that streams video and can search the internet. When I was a kid I wandered the fields behind my house and played army often recreating what I had seen on Combat or some other battle show that had been on television the night before. Now my kids play video games until their thumbs are ungodly strong and their bellies match the guys at Moe’s bar.
The surface of the world has changed but the world itself has not. It remains a rock in space with life forms tentatively clinging to its surface. I am a part of this rock and it is part of a larger series of rocks and together with more rocks and gases this existence spreads far beyond the imaginings of even the brightest of my fellows here. My being is while not for naught, it is damn close to naught in any real sense of the immensity of creation.
In aging I am challenged with the question of meaning in my life. What I can tell you is that I feel best when I have acted selflessly. Really. Such acts don’t happen often. My goal for this year is to make those acts just a little larger part of my life. This is day 1 of my year of being 55. My hope is to make this year matter.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Discernment, truth, relinquishment, and calm.
As I sit and listen to Stile Antico singing ancient church music I am mentally taken to a place that is akin to meditation. It calms me. Mentally it moves me into a cool stone edifice filled with light from stained glass windows. If you are standing in the beams of the royal hues of red and purple the sun warms you.
In my mental calm surrounded by an ancient hymn I let go of the world and its problems, just for now. My breathing slows and I feel real rest coming to my bones and sinews. With my thoughts clearing I can see, I can discern something that lies partially within me and partially beyond me. It is a real truth that stretches out forever and compresses into the smallest space of a heart. I cannot put this truth into words. I cannot assign it a name. It isn’t a philosophy, a theology, an ism or any method or path. It just is. Discernment, truth, relinquishment and calm these are the things needed to touch what I perceive in this sacred space and these are what this larger force offers. It is a conundrum isn’t it.
In my mental calm surrounded by an ancient hymn I let go of the world and its problems, just for now. My breathing slows and I feel real rest coming to my bones and sinews. With my thoughts clearing I can see, I can discern something that lies partially within me and partially beyond me. It is a real truth that stretches out forever and compresses into the smallest space of a heart. I cannot put this truth into words. I cannot assign it a name. It isn’t a philosophy, a theology, an ism or any method or path. It just is. Discernment, truth, relinquishment and calm these are the things needed to touch what I perceive in this sacred space and these are what this larger force offers. It is a conundrum isn’t it.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
TV Top Five-Aspergers Edition
I am not running apps on Facebook anymore. By making the choice to get low and into the background of America’s favorite anti-social addiction means that I can’t use that Social Living program anymore. You know the one I am talking about; it lets people list their five favorite foreign films or five favorite books by Latin American authors, etc. But I miss that one application. Telling people about entertainment you like is fun. The mental selection process takes you invariably to the good that you remember about the contenders in whatever category you are picking the top five in. So I decided I would jot down a list of my five favorite TV programs right now and do it as a note. The result was surprising to me.
My current favorite choices were in no particular order Bones, Parenthood, Big Bang Theory, Justified and Fringe. After I had jotted the list down I had to go over it a second time and think about what qualities these shows had that drew me to watch them. Reviewing those titles what struck me was that there were two unifying thread among the batch. The first thread and this covers all of them is that they are fluff. My time is not spent watching news wonks or shows on how to build stuff on the cheap. These are stories, mostly episodic and mostly light as air. Television for me is escape and I make no apologies for using it that way.
The second thread only covers three of the five series. The first three programs listed are shows that have prominent characters with ASD/Aspergers. My life is not defined by ASD/Aspergers but it is impacted by it. For three shows on three different networks to have an ASD character is pretty amazing. I should say to have three shows with positive (mostly) ASD characters is amazing. Shows like CSI, Criminal Minds and other police procedurals often trot out an ASD character as a soulless, conscience lacking villain. Really is that how we have to define people who are different than ourselves?
In Bones the Temperance Brennan has made optimal use of the clinical precision of her exacting mind and limited (by neurotypical standards) emotional attachments to others to prevail in her field. It is a popular myth that because a number of persons Aspergers have an inordinate (by neurotypical standards) focus on specialized areas that savant like behavior is rampant in their population. The writers of the show have imbued the Brennan character with a focused genius status. The writers take care to make the degrees she hangs off plumb from the norm seem quaint. They resolve stories without real estrangement from those around her due to her ASD. This is accomplished by surrounding her with highly educated understanding people. Real life isn’t necessary like that. Still for the odd person out dramedy the show is fun.
On the other hand Big Bang is a typical Chuck Lorre production with oversexed people mouthing double entendres left and right. Sheldon like Temperance Brennan has climbed well into the firmament of the scientific community based on the edge ASD has given him in the intellectual arena. He is however a total social buffoon. This gives Lorre’s writers the chance to play the awkwardness of ASD for all that it is worth. The lack of Sheldon’s due interpretation of social cues coupled with his obsessive tics and irrationally patterned behaviors are worth a belly laugh from time to time. Sheldon may be ASD but he is way not real. (I do have to say that the episode when Sheldon ordered Penny off of his spot on the couch is a guilty pleasure of a memory for me. While watching this episode Primus was in my home almost simultaneously ordering Secundus off his spot on our couch so he could sit down to watch Big Bang. All the while he was laughing a Sheldon’s buffoonery. It was meta-hilarious beyond words for me.)
Parenthood is just about people, pretty people (this is television), highly sexed people (this is television) of whom three or four have to deal with the realities of a clearly identified Aspergers child. God sometimes it feels like the writers have hidden camera in my home. I hadn’t checked in with the show for a couple of episodes because the plot line of having one brother sleep with the hired specially trained aid for the ASD child thus compromising her continued employment just seemed a little too icky for me. I sped the DVR through that and the subsequent episode stopping only when it was clear a major expository moment was happening.
On this week’s episode Adam the father of Max the kid with Aspergers gets into a fight at a grocery store. The start of the fight was Max reacting poorly to the person ahead of them in the quick check out lanes being 7 items over limit the 10 item limit. Eventually Max is sent on an errand elsewhere in the store to defuse the situation. Know that strategy well. The aggrieved cheater mutters about Max being a retard and Max’s father belts him. (I did hold back from cheering out loud others in the house were asleep). When Adam finally discloses to his wife what has happened he is ashamed and he admits he is angry. His anger is about not being able to do more for his son. For being stressed at work. For being lost in life.
Watching the episode was cathartic for me. I get it 100%. I will never punch anyone but I can get my hackles up verbally and have in meetings with teachers and others who don’t want to factor in the Aspergers when dealing with my son. I know I can’t be sure that I will protect my child from the fate of Sheldon and I know Temperance Brennan is a fantasy. She really seems to turn her ASD on and off or dial it down or up in different episodes and it just isn’t that way for Primus. All I can do is work with my son to try and teach him ways to meet the neurotypical world in a manner that he won’t threaten its peoples and in a way they won’t take advantage of him.
Yeah that is why I watch Parenthood. It is a good story for me and for my family. It is well written and it gets how the issues of Aspergers impact on a family. Bones I watch because I am drawn to seeing how many gross ways the special effects guy can make a corpse fall apart. Big Bang I watch because everyone including me likes to watch geeks screw up. And as to Fringe I watch it because I like good science fiction with characters that are not just two dimensional. Did you know that the guy who came up with the theory of an infinite series of universes arising from every decision point we act on was the father of the lead singer of the Eels? True fact.
I guess I watch Justified because it is an emotional release. I like seeing angry rednecks from Kentucky talk in rapid word play crafted in the style of Elmore Leonard. When they shoot people and brawl my angst and anger dissipates. Plus I wish I had Timothy Oliphant’s accent.
Anyway these are my current picks for good television.
My current favorite choices were in no particular order Bones, Parenthood, Big Bang Theory, Justified and Fringe. After I had jotted the list down I had to go over it a second time and think about what qualities these shows had that drew me to watch them. Reviewing those titles what struck me was that there were two unifying thread among the batch. The first thread and this covers all of them is that they are fluff. My time is not spent watching news wonks or shows on how to build stuff on the cheap. These are stories, mostly episodic and mostly light as air. Television for me is escape and I make no apologies for using it that way.
The second thread only covers three of the five series. The first three programs listed are shows that have prominent characters with ASD/Aspergers. My life is not defined by ASD/Aspergers but it is impacted by it. For three shows on three different networks to have an ASD character is pretty amazing. I should say to have three shows with positive (mostly) ASD characters is amazing. Shows like CSI, Criminal Minds and other police procedurals often trot out an ASD character as a soulless, conscience lacking villain. Really is that how we have to define people who are different than ourselves?
In Bones the Temperance Brennan has made optimal use of the clinical precision of her exacting mind and limited (by neurotypical standards) emotional attachments to others to prevail in her field. It is a popular myth that because a number of persons Aspergers have an inordinate (by neurotypical standards) focus on specialized areas that savant like behavior is rampant in their population. The writers of the show have imbued the Brennan character with a focused genius status. The writers take care to make the degrees she hangs off plumb from the norm seem quaint. They resolve stories without real estrangement from those around her due to her ASD. This is accomplished by surrounding her with highly educated understanding people. Real life isn’t necessary like that. Still for the odd person out dramedy the show is fun.
On the other hand Big Bang is a typical Chuck Lorre production with oversexed people mouthing double entendres left and right. Sheldon like Temperance Brennan has climbed well into the firmament of the scientific community based on the edge ASD has given him in the intellectual arena. He is however a total social buffoon. This gives Lorre’s writers the chance to play the awkwardness of ASD for all that it is worth. The lack of Sheldon’s due interpretation of social cues coupled with his obsessive tics and irrationally patterned behaviors are worth a belly laugh from time to time. Sheldon may be ASD but he is way not real. (I do have to say that the episode when Sheldon ordered Penny off of his spot on the couch is a guilty pleasure of a memory for me. While watching this episode Primus was in my home almost simultaneously ordering Secundus off his spot on our couch so he could sit down to watch Big Bang. All the while he was laughing a Sheldon’s buffoonery. It was meta-hilarious beyond words for me.)
Parenthood is just about people, pretty people (this is television), highly sexed people (this is television) of whom three or four have to deal with the realities of a clearly identified Aspergers child. God sometimes it feels like the writers have hidden camera in my home. I hadn’t checked in with the show for a couple of episodes because the plot line of having one brother sleep with the hired specially trained aid for the ASD child thus compromising her continued employment just seemed a little too icky for me. I sped the DVR through that and the subsequent episode stopping only when it was clear a major expository moment was happening.
On this week’s episode Adam the father of Max the kid with Aspergers gets into a fight at a grocery store. The start of the fight was Max reacting poorly to the person ahead of them in the quick check out lanes being 7 items over limit the 10 item limit. Eventually Max is sent on an errand elsewhere in the store to defuse the situation. Know that strategy well. The aggrieved cheater mutters about Max being a retard and Max’s father belts him. (I did hold back from cheering out loud others in the house were asleep). When Adam finally discloses to his wife what has happened he is ashamed and he admits he is angry. His anger is about not being able to do more for his son. For being stressed at work. For being lost in life.
Watching the episode was cathartic for me. I get it 100%. I will never punch anyone but I can get my hackles up verbally and have in meetings with teachers and others who don’t want to factor in the Aspergers when dealing with my son. I know I can’t be sure that I will protect my child from the fate of Sheldon and I know Temperance Brennan is a fantasy. She really seems to turn her ASD on and off or dial it down or up in different episodes and it just isn’t that way for Primus. All I can do is work with my son to try and teach him ways to meet the neurotypical world in a manner that he won’t threaten its peoples and in a way they won’t take advantage of him.
Yeah that is why I watch Parenthood. It is a good story for me and for my family. It is well written and it gets how the issues of Aspergers impact on a family. Bones I watch because I am drawn to seeing how many gross ways the special effects guy can make a corpse fall apart. Big Bang I watch because everyone including me likes to watch geeks screw up. And as to Fringe I watch it because I like good science fiction with characters that are not just two dimensional. Did you know that the guy who came up with the theory of an infinite series of universes arising from every decision point we act on was the father of the lead singer of the Eels? True fact.
I guess I watch Justified because it is an emotional release. I like seeing angry rednecks from Kentucky talk in rapid word play crafted in the style of Elmore Leonard. When they shoot people and brawl my angst and anger dissipates. Plus I wish I had Timothy Oliphant’s accent.
Anyway these are my current picks for good television.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Bite Me Earl
Last night I left the office early. Departing before 5:30 I left so as to avoid having to be the person to activate the alarm. Going out early meant I had to walk about 10 minutes to the nearest Panera Bread Company, a chain sandwich, coffee and pastry shop. My wife was going to meet me there.
On the way to our meeting point I had to walk through a park. As I took the paved but cleared path from one side of the park to the other I saw a small Kroger shopping cart. Wheels up it sat in a snow drift. I pulled the cart out and decided to be a good doobie. My thought was that I would take over to the front of Panera. Panera and Kroger are three doors apart with a World Market in between. My hope was that the Kroger cart kids would round it up at the end of the business day.
I have no vested interest in Kroger. Moving the cart closer to the store from whence it came just seemed like a nice thing to do. Like Earl and his list of wrongs maybe I needed to work out some karma. I mean thirty years ago I took a Kroger cart from this self-same Kroger and loaded my very loaded wife in it and pushed her back to the dorm. It was after an evening at the long gone, often lamented Boom Boom Room. The name of the bar should tell you what kind of place it was.
Whatever the reason I took the cart back. Ah, but I am sure now there will be consequences and not the ones I intended. As I pushed the cart back I took my briefcase off my shoulder and put it in the basket. From the point I picked the cart up I had to traverse the park, several store front facades and then a large parking lot. It didn’t click to me until I was almost to Panera that some passing cars were giving me the once over as they went by. Limping with my bag in the cart I looked well odd. The looks were beyond glances but didn’t really reach the level of glares.
How long will it be before my wife gets that first call about whether I have gone insane or become homeless? I can hear the call, “Mrs. T. I saw your husband shuffling through the mall parking lot with his belongings in a grocery cart. Is everything okay?”
I guess that is the thing about large scale spiritual forces. Trying to do the right thing isn’t like putting your money in a soda pop machine and pressing a selection. In the case of the drink machine you hit Diet Coke and you get Diet Coke. On the spiritual side when you try to do the right thing, when you try and address the deficits of the divine in your life what comes to you in return is not an automatic pass for something you did wrong that day (or thirty years earlier). Often the response is enigmatic or more likely it is a sideways response.
A simple act is like a stone thrown in a pond. The ripples move out and touch things you never contemplated. I hear you thinking but nobody has called yet.
I have been at this long enough to know they will. It may not be a call but someone will bring it up, I promise.
Last night I left the office early. Departing before 5:30 I left so as to avoid having to be the person to activate the alarm. Going out early meant I had to walk about 10 minutes to the nearest Panera Bread Company, a chain sandwich, coffee and pastry shop. My wife was going to meet me there.
On the way to our meeting point I had to walk through a park. As I took the paved but cleared path from one side of the park to the other I saw a small Kroger shopping cart. Wheels up it sat in a snow drift. I pulled the cart out and decided to be a good doobie. My thought was that I would take over to the front of Panera. Panera and Kroger are three doors apart with a World Market in between. My hope was that the Kroger cart kids would round it up at the end of the business day.
I have no vested interest in Kroger. Moving the cart closer to the store from whence it came just seemed like a nice thing to do. Like Earl and his list of wrongs maybe I needed to work out some karma. I mean thirty years ago I took a Kroger cart from this self-same Kroger and loaded my very loaded wife in it and pushed her back to the dorm. It was after an evening at the long gone, often lamented Boom Boom Room. The name of the bar should tell you what kind of place it was.
Whatever the reason I took the cart back. Ah, but I am sure now there will be consequences and not the ones I intended. As I pushed the cart back I took my briefcase off my shoulder and put it in the basket. From the point I picked the cart up I had to traverse the park, several store front facades and then a large parking lot. It didn’t click to me until I was almost to Panera that some passing cars were giving me the once over as they went by. Limping with my bag in the cart I looked well odd. The looks were beyond glances but didn’t really reach the level of glares.
How long will it be before my wife gets that first call about whether I have gone insane or become homeless? I can hear the call, “Mrs. T. I saw your husband shuffling through the mall parking lot with his belongings in a grocery cart. Is everything okay?”
I guess that is the thing about large scale spiritual forces. Trying to do the right thing isn’t like putting your money in a soda pop machine and pressing a selection. In the case of the drink machine you hit Diet Coke and you get Diet Coke. On the spiritual side when you try to do the right thing, when you try and address the deficits of the divine in your life what comes to you in return is not an automatic pass for something you did wrong that day (or thirty years earlier). Often the response is enigmatic or more likely it is a sideways response.
A simple act is like a stone thrown in a pond. The ripples move out and touch things you never contemplated. I hear you thinking but nobody has called yet.
I have been at this long enough to know they will. It may not be a call but someone will bring it up, I promise. Really I just wanted to get to Panera to read a little more from Tricycle the Buddhist monthly.
On the way to our meeting point I had to walk through a park. As I took the paved but cleared path from one side of the park to the other I saw a small Kroger shopping cart. Wheels up it sat in a snow drift. I pulled the cart out and decided to be a good doobie. My thought was that I would take over to the front of Panera. Panera and Kroger are three doors apart with a World Market in between. My hope was that the Kroger cart kids would round it up at the end of the business day.
I have no vested interest in Kroger. Moving the cart closer to the store from whence it came just seemed like a nice thing to do. Like Earl and his list of wrongs maybe I needed to work out some karma. I mean thirty years ago I took a Kroger cart from this self-same Kroger and loaded my very loaded wife in it and pushed her back to the dorm. It was after an evening at the long gone, often lamented Boom Boom Room. The name of the bar should tell you what kind of place it was.
Whatever the reason I took the cart back. Ah, but I am sure now there will be consequences and not the ones I intended. As I pushed the cart back I took my briefcase off my shoulder and put it in the basket. From the point I picked the cart up I had to traverse the park, several store front facades and then a large parking lot. It didn’t click to me until I was almost to Panera that some passing cars were giving me the once over as they went by. Limping with my bag in the cart I looked well odd. The looks were beyond glances but didn’t really reach the level of glares.
How long will it be before my wife gets that first call about whether I have gone insane or become homeless? I can hear the call, “Mrs. T. I saw your husband shuffling through the mall parking lot with his belongings in a grocery cart. Is everything okay?”
I guess that is the thing about large scale spiritual forces. Trying to do the right thing isn’t like putting your money in a soda pop machine and pressing a selection. In the case of the drink machine you hit Diet Coke and you get Diet Coke. On the spiritual side when you try to do the right thing, when you try and address the deficits of the divine in your life what comes to you in return is not an automatic pass for something you did wrong that day (or thirty years earlier). Often the response is enigmatic or more likely it is a sideways response.
A simple act is like a stone thrown in a pond. The ripples move out and touch things you never contemplated. I hear you thinking but nobody has called yet.
I have been at this long enough to know they will. It may not be a call but someone will bring it up, I promise.
Last night I left the office early. Departing before 5:30 I left so as to avoid having to be the person to activate the alarm. Going out early meant I had to walk about 10 minutes to the nearest Panera Bread Company, a chain sandwich, coffee and pastry shop. My wife was going to meet me there.
On the way to our meeting point I had to walk through a park. As I took the paved but cleared path from one side of the park to the other I saw a small Kroger shopping cart. Wheels up it sat in a snow drift. I pulled the cart out and decided to be a good doobie. My thought was that I would take over to the front of Panera. Panera and Kroger are three doors apart with a World Market in between. My hope was that the Kroger cart kids would round it up at the end of the business day.
I have no vested interest in Kroger. Moving the cart closer to the store from whence it came just seemed like a nice thing to do. Like Earl and his list of wrongs maybe I needed to work out some karma. I mean thirty years ago I took a Kroger cart from this self-same Kroger and loaded my very loaded wife in it and pushed her back to the dorm. It was after an evening at the long gone, often lamented Boom Boom Room. The name of the bar should tell you what kind of place it was.
Whatever the reason I took the cart back. Ah, but I am sure now there will be consequences and not the ones I intended. As I pushed the cart back I took my briefcase off my shoulder and put it in the basket. From the point I picked the cart up I had to traverse the park, several store front facades and then a large parking lot. It didn’t click to me until I was almost to Panera that some passing cars were giving me the once over as they went by. Limping with my bag in the cart I looked well odd. The looks were beyond glances but didn’t really reach the level of glares.
How long will it be before my wife gets that first call about whether I have gone insane or become homeless? I can hear the call, “Mrs. T. I saw your husband shuffling through the mall parking lot with his belongings in a grocery cart. Is everything okay?”
I guess that is the thing about large scale spiritual forces. Trying to do the right thing isn’t like putting your money in a soda pop machine and pressing a selection. In the case of the drink machine you hit Diet Coke and you get Diet Coke. On the spiritual side when you try to do the right thing, when you try and address the deficits of the divine in your life what comes to you in return is not an automatic pass for something you did wrong that day (or thirty years earlier). Often the response is enigmatic or more likely it is a sideways response.
A simple act is like a stone thrown in a pond. The ripples move out and touch things you never contemplated. I hear you thinking but nobody has called yet.
I have been at this long enough to know they will. It may not be a call but someone will bring it up, I promise. Really I just wanted to get to Panera to read a little more from Tricycle the Buddhist monthly.
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