Category Archives: Gift

Of A Morning Encounter

Earlier this week, at a very early hour, I had a human moment, one which I will write about cautiously, against my nature.

Just a couple of nights earlier, I listened as a neighbor sat outside. His mind was at high elevation, so to speak. He had his phone in front of him, singing loudly and with an absent melody. His voice carried, even against the strident insistence of insects. I couldn’t help but laugh at the content of the song he sang. I wasn’t laughing at him per se; but his delivery and vocal content were so amusing that I couldn’t help but laugh involuntarily. So much so that even days later, I find myself singing a certain segment of what he sang.

On the morning in question, I stood on the balcony. The neighbor sat below. Something about his demeanor signaled that something was amiss. His mind was clear – and that surprised me. “I just need to talk to someone.” So, even though I needed to leave for work, I did. And he told me a story about dear friends, ones who’d moved away. Betrayal had struck them like it does so many. As we talked, his mood lifted, and I gave him a practical distraction about the absurdities of human behavior and its consequences.

It’s the terrain I know too well. I suspect most of us find familiarity in the map of mixed emotions.

I went inside, petted the cat, and headed out again. As I sat in my car, way before sunrise, I looked at him again, still sitting in silence in front of his apartment.

I ignored my inner voice and exited the car, walked over to him, and hugged him. He sobbed for a bit and then thanked me.

Presence.

It’s overlooked and sometimes feared.

But who among us doesn’t want it and need it like the oxygen we breathe?

Each of us will have a turn in our own flooded boat. Perhaps it will be invisible to those around us.

The rain falls on all of us.

I don’t have a moral to the story or a tidy bow to crown it.

Just shared words.

Sometimes, that is more than enough.

Love, X
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Drug Shed Adventure

Drug Shed Adventure

Oh, it is a serene enough scene now. An hour ago? Had you casually turned the corner, you would have witnessed a 55-year-old man kick off his sandals, peel off his shirt, followed by his pants, leaving him with a pair of underwear covering his body and nothing else.

Except for several hundred allegedly harmless ants.

I’ve been periodically deconstructing the drug shed behind my apartment. To avoid overpiling the dumpster, I split up my 40 or 50 trips back and forth hauling the contents of said shed to the dumpster. I should have done it last year, along with the cleanup and all the tree cutting. In winter, I mean, to reduce the varmint probability.

This afternoon, on a foolish whim, I went back there with a screwdriver and a small cutting tool. Yes, I had on a pair of rubber sandals. I realize that they are not on a construction workers list of advisable shoe wear in those conditions. All I can say in my defense is that I had a couple of major head dramas when I was younger.

Spiders? Check. Snakes? Check. It wasn’t until I was crammed up between the side of the drug shed facing the old wooden fence that I realized I was itching. I’d seen a few ants pour out one of the seams of the metal siding. A few were on my hand. Much to my surprise, I looked down at the mass of trash and leaves and realized I was standing on top of thousands and thousands of ants. Undoubtedly there was a colony underneath the steel and rotted wood platform, one which extended out into the untouched confines between the shed and the fence.

It took me a few seconds, I will admit – to connect my itching to the probability that I might be covered with ants underneath my clothing.

When I peeled off my shirt, I was covered in them. Which led me to the conclusion that my legs and nether regions were probably being invaded too. Because these weren’t flying ants, they had to have used my legs as a ladder to get up there right?

I jumped several feet away from the shed and began undressing like a music fan at a Phish festival. I used my hands for several seconds and then grabbed my shirt and began hitting myself.

Had anyone looked out the windows facing the back side of the apartments, they would either be shocked or just assumed that it’s another typical day where I live.

Tomorrow I will get my vengeance.

I’ll go out there with my professional strength insecticide and drown them. Please don’t feel sorry for the ants.

They got the last word today.

I guess it could have been worse: 10,000 spiders, a pit of snakes, or two dozen managers trying to have a meeting with me.

X
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Here & Now

Roaring rivulets of running rain follow their path into the storm drain

The cooler air cracks and sparks with thunder and lightning

The chilly August air feels alien in comparison to days past

I don’t know where the water might go, and I don’t need to

It always finds a way

Holiness is knowing your ignorance and being aware of your limited imagination

Things follow their own path and nature takes its course

Were we able to allow ourselves to do the same…

We bring our past along like treasured baggage

We think it defines us when in reality it confines us

You can’t live the day until it arrives and you survive it

And perhaps it will put a smile on our faces, both the rain and this realization

As we run our races, barreling towards our own finish line

No matter where the water goes or where we shall end

This day is new

You should be too

X
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No, I Am Not

I had a real belly laugh earlier.

I went outside in the afternoon to sweep the parking lot below my apartment. I do this frequently to ensure that anything that blows off my landing doesn’t become someone else’s problem. If everyone did this, it would solve a lot of the messes that accumulate in the world.

I talked to one of my newer neighbors quite a bit. He was convinced I am gay. I think he thinks his gaydar is broken now! Everything from my car color choice to my art projects, to my glasses, and the way I dress. He also took the time to complain that he hates that I took my massive fence project down. He said that it reveals a lot about the person who tried to complain, something that was coincidental, given that someone else told me the same thing today about an entirely different situation. I told him the landlord tried to take back the request a couple of hours after asking me to do so.

Just because I like to be personal, I’ve never had a gay experience or been the least bit interested in the same sex. I am so glad I came out of my violent, racist, and prejudiced childhood without those attitudes of judgment toward people who are gay. Even when the same sex hit on me, I just smiled and explained and went about my day. Anyone brave enough to express their interest, much less in this seemingly growing era of backlash prejudice, deserves grace for being who they are. Sexuality is complicated enough without the added burden of falling outside the alleged norm. Almost everyone I know is trapped in their own personal cocoon of concealment and worry about their perceived sexuality and behavior. I’ve never understood why some people are so obsessed with other people’s sexuality. Except to gossip! Gossip is the exception – one that everyone claims they don’t do.

Although it’s not directly related, if you find someone you like, tell them. It doesn’t have to be awkward. It probably will be, though, because rejection is about as welcome as a spider in one’s shoe in the morning. From experience, I learned the hard way that you should NOT use a bullhorn to tell them. Or shout it out in church.

While talking to my neighbor, I was reminded of how small the world is and how interconnected we are. Because he knows a few people I know. And some of them have secrets, secrets that belong to them to keep private or to live openly. But I wish the world were filled with grace. Not acceptance… because that belies that people different from us must be accepted. They don’t need to be accepted. They need to be who they are without our individual judgments or perceptions affecting how they live their lives. Unless we’re having a laugh about the absurdity of individuals and their choices. I love it when people snark about me, as long as they are creative.

So if you see me driving around in my little blue cotton candy car, I’m not going to give you my number. I won’t go to Applebee’s with you either for a cocktail and hot wings. Unless you’re buying, of course.

Love, X

PS That’s a crescent wrench above my thumb. I keep one magnetized on each side of my metal door. It looks like a floating key. The “Sadboy” t-shirt I’m wearing, the one I splotched deliberately with paint, it’s the most comfortable shirt I’ve ever owned.
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A Moment of Curious

She sat in the shade near the bus stop. I had stopped in an attempt to take a picture of two enormous crows up in the tree. They were squawking worse than a teenage boy complaining that there was no ranch dressing. I watched her as she held her enormous phone sideways against her chin. She had a very unusual large tattoo on the side of her calf of her right leg.

It was not my intention to eavesdrop. She was animatedly talking in an extremely loud voice. Possibly due to the teenage boy crows up in the tree above her.

“Look, I don’t care what he said. He slept with my mom Thursday night after I fell asleep watching Netflix. My mom told me all about it the next morning.”

As I walked away, I desperately wanted to know the rest of that story. Neither the crows nor I were judgmental. But 100% curious!

X

The Little Pieces of Glass

I took a walk when the sun became hidden behind the dense summer clouds. My wobbly legs protested but the pavement called. Exertion has replaced chemistry in my quest for peace.

After a few minutes, I felt the bite of an incautious step. A little piece of glass upended and pierced the inside of my foot. It reminded me of being young when shoes were a nuisance and terrain was mine for the taking. I was walking barefoot, a modern savage for removing my shoes and walking the streets. Fifty-five-year-old men aren’t supposed to walk barefoot. It’s dangerous and an invitation to pain.

I walked several dozen steps and turned to look behind me. Little red swashes colored the sidewalk, my blood blotting the concrete with an irregular pattern.

Because there was no remedy, I walked until I left no such further trace.

I traversed the same arc after it rained. My little swashes were erased.

Life is like that if we are lucky.

A sharp, momentary pain, even if it lasts an undetermined time. All is momentary in the swath of one’s life.

The rain will come, or time will fade the bite of what harmed us.

We can take measures and cover our bare feet with shoes, yet pain will return, often from a surprising source.

Or, we can walk barefoot again, knowing that proverbial glass can lie anywhere, unseen. We can enjoy the rough textures, the literal touch of our world on our feet.

We can guard against anything, but we lose a dose of carefree disregard for the things that might happen.

There is no ‘might’ in this place we call home.

Everything is eventual, a muse once uttered. Good and bad, storm and calm, hunger and satiation. Ecclesiastes, distilled to its essence, reminds me of that frequently.

Rain will come, disguised as seconds, hours and minutes; it will surely wash us all away.

It boils down to whether you will walk barefoot despite the risk.

My feet uncovered, I decide to do it again.

If glass finds my feet again, I will once again watch in fascination as I leave traces of my stupidity behind me. But at least there are traces.

Cautious and incautious alike often lead to the same path.

I don’t want to find the glass, but I know it will find me, no matter its literal form or how confidently or carefully I walk.

Whether I keep walking is the measure of whether I’ve been stupid or wise.

My bare toes touch the bottom of the landing at the stairs. And so, I walk.

Love, X
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Smiles

I will write a happy, fun moment in time. Lord knows we all need one. Some moments are especially sweet precisely because of the bittersweet swirling around us.

I pulled into the convenience store near the interstate. Two boys were wheeling around on bicycles, happy and carefree as young boys often are, when they have freedom and mobility. You don’t see boys like that galavanting like you once did, especially on bikes.

I went in to get a soda and watched as the boys excitedly decided what to buy with their precious dollars. When I went to pay they were behind me.

I received my change and turned and handed one of the boys a $5 bill. “Don’t take money from strangers!” I said. All of us laughed, even the clerk. The boys’ faces lit up as they realized they could buy additional unexpected bounty.

It cost me $5 to make us all smile.

I waited outside in my car to watch as the boys exited.

Smiles.

Everywhere!

Love, X
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The Inertia of Moments

The train horn sounded in the distance. A curtain of insects chirped and announced their presence. The surprisingly cool air enveloped me as I sat on the landing, my cat uncharacteristically sitting next to me so that I could scramble his ears with my fingers. A cup of coffee set precariously on the landing rail in front of me. Below me, a neighbor coughed as he sat in the chair facing the shadows and the dark parking lot. In front of him were the remains and carcass of the failed air conditioning that had been replaced. As the train passed, its horn was replaced by the sound of industrial trash trucks doing their daily rounds. You would think the urban sounds would be a distraction. They’re not. Though I sat motionless, already dressed for work, I wanted another minute or another hour or another day to remain there. Thinking, but motionless. I looked up into the clear sky and watched stars twinkle. My inertia of the moment was almost insurmountable.

Color.
Magic.
The universe inside the bottle lights reminded me.

X
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Firefly Tuesday

If you climb a tree way before the sun rises, sometimes a magical moment happens. The dormant fireflies that believed their night of intermittent luminescence was finished… they will take flight as the jostling and vibration startles them into motion – especially if you shake your cell phone to cause it to flash. For anyone who has never thought of this or carefully ascended a tree in the dark, it’s one of those childhood moments that never fails to delight. And if it does ever fail to cause my lips to curl upward in a smile, I will climb to the very top with abandon and launch myself to the bottom.

The images from yesterday, the ones that reached back billions of years, they were beautiful. But there are things hidden in plain sight all around you. Sometimes you just have to look or be willing to do something different to see them. Close your eyes for a moment and then open them. There will be something fascinating around you. If you want there to be.

PS It’s pointless to caution me to be careful. Such advice is practical, but at my age I’ve learned that even the most cautious and careful people don’t have to look far to be besieged with calamity. The universe is not a fair place.

Love, X