COMMAS

I worked with a lady, a National Park Volunteer who shared a sudden, striking realization, an epiphany of sorts. What brings her to mind today, I don’t know. Her husband was retired military and their world view was predictably skewed, in line with the famous Stephen Decatur quote, “My country, right or wrong; my country . . .” Anyway, on that particular morning she had this radiant look about her and it was obvious she simply had to tell someone, what it was that made her so giddy. “I just realized,” she said, “we are our decisions.” She was so pleased with herself I was happy for her. But I’ve chewed on that bone so many times it has lost its zest. Certainly decisions matter and we must be diligent in the making but they are commas, not periods. Whichever decision you make must of necessity come from choices that are available. Your part in the choosing may be the tick or the tock of the mantle clock but not both. Does a raindrop decide how fast to fall or where to land? The world in general and people in particular put things in context and we don’t control that. I like the Zen quote, “Relax, no one is in control.” I think we are raindrops with attitude, going where the wind blows, believing we are self propelled. 

She had customers in the book store while my job that morning was to lead a guided hike and share the park’s story. My theme was: How does nature reconcile rocks born half a billion years ago with gnats that live and die in a few weeks?  I didn’t tell my audience what to believe, only how it works. Life begets life, seeking after itself. It occupies a loop in the grand scheme and we are part of that loop. Rocks, water and air have their own cycles. When things change, energy and mass, even people, everything naturally seeks some kind of balance: you know how nature hates a vacuum but the system is nearly infinite. So much pushing and pulling, balance is out of the question but that’s how nature reconciles, always a step behind, always responding to something new that needs attention now. I don’t remember her name and that’s alright. I forget names. They were nice people. I love my country too but then I love chocolate and Dr. Seuss. I light up to a different revelation: “It takes a village . . .” Sometimes change comes slow and like gnats, you may not notice it in just one lifetime.