I Broke Up a Line Today...

I pulled into my local recycling center today, or rather tried to. My initial attempt was blocked by a line of about eight vehicles, just sitting patiently, waiting to pull forward. I peered around and noticed that there was a truck with a camper on it stopped in front of the trash compactors for household garbage. Beyond that, however, was the recepticles for mingled recyclables and mixed paper. There is a space between the industrial sized bins for commingled recyclables and mixed paper large enough for a car to nestle in between. But there wasn't a car there. Everyone in line appeared to be waiting to use the trash compactors for household garbage.

So I pulled around and parked in between the bins for commingled recyclables and mixed paper. And suddenly, as if a spell had been broken, the vehicles waiting in line scattered forward, pulling around the stopped camper, and actually walking a few feet to throw their garbage away instead of waiting idly to pull up flush with the trash compactor before unloading.

I brought a new perspective to the situation. I wonder if it even occurred to anyone else to pull around, to walk before I got there. I'm not saying I'm any smarter than those people, but a line has a certain kind of authority in our society. It's very bad manners to break in line. But in this case, breaking in line didn't mean that I procured a good and/or service before anyone else. It simply meant I had to walk farther to get rid of my trash. And, there was plenty of places to go in front of the line. It's just that the line, once formed, held sway.

That's what it's all about, really. Perspective building. Perspective breaking. So get out there. Read a book. Read a blog. Read a tweet. Have a conversation. Send an e-mail. Talk to somebody new.  Join the human conversation. Learn some new perspectives and maybe break up a line every once in a while.

That is all.

A Revision

Dear Reader,

This is how it works. You stand in front of the mashed potatoes for minutes upon minutes and try to remember something you forgot years ago.

You consider it. You consider all aspects of it. You consider the sharp edge of your loneliness and how deeply it cuts. You contrast it with your happiness and use the two together to devise a sum that measures worth.

This is how it works. You get up at 2:30 in the morning to write this poem, disturbing the cat who is the only body warming your bed these days. This makes you feel guilty, but it speaks through you at the most inconvenient times, that little spark of God inside, and you wish He’d keep a better schedule.

This is how it works. You drag the notebook back over and fumble for the light. The cat is getting very annoyed now and soon he will leave you, too. Not for China. Probably just for the floor, but it might as well be China for how far from you it is.

You thank God again for The Gift. But not for the walls it gives you. Not for the way you can never just say what you need to say, but instead must disguise it; must hide it between these pretty veils. You think this is the way it will always be: a notebook and an empty mattress and a warm body far away who has never quite gotten what he needs from you.

You close your eyes. All else slides away and it is just you and the cat and the whole universe inside you aching to get out.

Sincerely,

T------

These Ladies Are My new Heroes

Handjob, Bland Job, I Don't Understand Job - watch more funny videos

Handjob, Bland Job, I Don't Understand Job - watch more funny videos

Just thought you should know.