I’m sure I can’t be the only one who feels like the world seems to be a little out of control—like it’s running too fast down a rocky path, and a wipeout resulting in skinned knees is imminent. It’s hard to keep up with all that’s happening on the widescreen view of life on earth. Even the weather seems to have joined in on the drama, hiding around the corner, waiting for the right moment to surprise us with a bucketload of rain from an inconspicuous cloud that lies in wait. Surprise.
This morning, as I contemplate the troublesome state of the world from my pinhole view, the faint whisper of a breeze nudges me to look up. On the very top branches of the towering oak trees, leaves are moving and swaying ever so gently, while the leaves further down aren’t moving at all. And at the top of a nearby Mimosa tree, hummingbirds are feasting on the sweet nectar of the pink blossoms. From the ground, it’s hard to see the flowers through the leaves. But from my elevated patio, I have a bird’s-eye view, so to speak.
Last week, when we were just hours from home, after driving over 1,000 miles, our van started making a strange sound. As the sound seemingly grew louder, we tried to discern where it was coming from. Earlier that morning, we had made plans to take a detour and visit with some friends, but changed our minds, thinking it would be best to go straight home. Mile by mile, the mysterious whining grew, along with my husband's concerns of breaking down on the side of the road. I suggested he call some other friends we knew who happened to live about an hour further on down the road in the direction we were heading. He made a quick call, and without hesitation, our friend stopped what he was doing, put a relaxing weekend at his lake house on pause, and met us at his garage. To our surprise, our friend not only had a garage/shop building that the van would easily fit in, but he had a lift that could raise the oversized vehicle in the air. Within minutes, they found the problem—metal grinding on metal, in the inner parts of a worn-out rear axle. Since it wasn’t an easy or quick fix, our friend offered us his truck, and in less than two hours, we were back on the road, leaving our van behind in Oklahoma.
However, the adventure wasn’t over yet. What should have been an easy four-hour trip home turned into a late-night, intense drive when the truck threatened to leave us stranded by not starting—once in a restaurant parking lot, and a second time in front of a gas pump. As it turned out, it was just a couple of minor delays that gave me a chance to watch the sun go down and get a glimpse of life at a convenience store after dark. I can tell you at least half a dozen stories about the people I watched as I sat in the truck for an hour, including a guy on a bicycle, with a loud boombox strapped on the handlebars, who, in a matter of seconds, right before my eyes, grabbed a bag of ice and disappeared into the dark.
Every moment is a movement, for life and breath to flow right through.
Meanwhile, while I was living out my adventures on the highway, back home, the air-conditioner tripped the breaker in our travel trailer home. Thankfully, my mom had a “feeling” and checked in on Dennis, our dog, to find him safe inside an unusually warm travel trailer. Since it was too hot to stay at home, Dennis was treated to a spa vacation at Grandma’s house, with air-conditioning and continuous treats for being such a good boy. Which, in Dennis’ world, is being Dennis.
Amid the detours, stops, and starts, I have also been listening to Alan Watts’ book Cloud-hidden, Whereabouts Unknown. In the book, he shares a lifetime’s worth of thought-provoking ideas, but one that is staying with me has to do with nature as a source of wisdom, observing how clouds and waves "always do the right thing" without effort or striving.
I’ll flip the hourglass on end
And we’ll begin again
Building castles out of sand
Tiny pearls within our hands
So that’s got me thinking. What if there’s no catching up? Or getting ahead? What if there’s no “Just as soon as…?” What if all I have is now, no matter how messy or inconvenient it appears to be? And what if living on this earth is way easier than I thought? And doing the right thing is as simple as moving with life, like the leaves, the breeze, the hummingbirds, the clouds, and the waves. If so, all I have to say is “YES!” After all, look how far I’ve already come!
I don’t know how things are going to work out. I don’t know if it’s going to rain today. I don’t know how the colors are going to blend in my watercolor painting. But whatever happens in the next 24 hours, 7 days, 12 months, or two years, one thing is certain. I’ll be surprised. Because, in the wise words of John Lennon, “Life is what happens to you while you are making other plans.” Or in my own words, “Life happens.”
I’m thinking of this song today. You can listen to Bending Time on Bandcamp
Bending Time
by Trisha Leone Sandora
In the early light of dawn
The breeze whispered a song
About a place of timelessness
Within the morning mist
In a minute of reality
I lived years in a dream
In a peaceful state of mind
Beyond the reach of time
One step forward two steps back
Leaving tracks in a crooked line
Bending time, bending time
Through detours, stops, and starts
Slow dancing in the dark
Bending time, bending time
Turning and returning, we go around
Lovin’ and livin’, slowing it down
Bending time
We'll watch the sun drop out of sight
Wish on a star tonight
Feel the cool air brush our skin
Think about where we’ve been
I’ll flip the hourglass on end
And we’ll begin again
Building castles out of sand
Tiny pearls within our hands
One step forward, two steps back
Leaving tracks in a crooked line
Bending time, bending time
Through detours, stops, and starts
Slow dancing in the dark
Bending time, bending time
In a luminescent web so fine
We're connecting stars, Earth, and sky
Bending time, bending time
Bending time, bending time