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Saturday, June 25, 2011

Starry Starry Night


I have been hemming and hawing over starting this piece for almost two weeks now. Nothing was grabbing me. Nothing started my brain swirling; nothing wrenched my heart enough to get me going. Some times I wonder if I'll ever grab hold of my muse again and make her tell me a story I can write down for you. I guess I always expect instant gratification. I always expect the bulb over my head to glow bright enough to completely illumine what I need to write about. The problem is it takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the light to be able to peer into the nooks and crannies where all the best stuff is. Don't know why I fret so. Something always happens to remind my muse to whisper in my ear.

As I was on my way home from work Monday I could see police cruisers with their lights flashing from a good mile away. I figured it was an accident or a speeder pulled over. I put my seatbelt on. Oops. As I got closer I realized they were right in front of my building. Even closer and I can see that its not one or two cruisers. There's a mess of police cars strewn across the parking lots and lawns of my building and the one next door. I can't park in my normal spot due to all the official vehicles. As I make my way to my room I can see people talking and peering around the corner if the building. I take a peek and see police tape and an ambulance and official type people. I turn and ask some one what happened.

Some one shot himself.

We mill around a bit. Some few peek around the corner to try and glimpse tragedy. See if they can some how identify the person.

The ambulance leaves. Its lights flashing but the sirens silent. Somehow not a good sign.

I don't know who he was. I've never known anyone who has taken their own life. I'm sorry if you have ever felt that sting. Or still feel it.

In a way the identity doesn't matter. I'm not being mean, really. This place and the one next door aren't places one would ever plan your life around ending up. They're places that foster anonymity. They are places to watch your laundry lest you come up a pair of socks or a shirt short of your original load. Some life circumstance has led each and every one of us to this place. Some of us know things will be better. Others lose sight of the joy that is life.

See, but, that's the thing. We need to experience life. When we hold on to ego, when we name and classify every experience attaching it to something in the past; we lose our sense of identity with the universe. We must experience every moment and live it. Every laugh and every tear. It means we're alive. No where else will you feel rain falling on you, the winter wind nip your nose, pride in your child or sadness or grief or joy or anything except here and now. I can think of no better thing than being alive here and now. Every moment is bliss. Every moment you're alive.

Heavy stuff.

Oh, I know. Easier said than done, right? Yes, probably. Wouldn't you rather feel that way every day though than after oh, I don't know, a car accident or a health scare or something?

Google suicide warning signs or depression warning signs. Someone you know may very well need somebody to recognize the signs. Please.

For any Warren fans out there; Enjoy every sandwich.

Ok, 'nuff of me.

Keep your stick on the ice.








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