Walking the Bear

I was out walking the bear Saturday night. 'Walking the bear' is what I call those long, aimless walks I take when restless. The phrase comes from something a good friend of mine said to me:

"It's like I have this bear inside me. He can stay put for a while, hibernate for a while. But sooner or later, life thaws and I gotta move again. I know you get what I mean, Hove."

While out walking the bear, I spotted something on the sidewalk. A child had scrawled LEAVE in big, block letters. I told my friend, Josh, about it at the bar later.

"Why would a kid write 'leave' on the sidewalk?"

I smiled. "I don't know. Maybe to tell me what to do next."

Weeds

As I mowed my lawn yesterday I couldn’t help but think how beautiful the dandelions were. Hundreds of brilliantly bright yellow flowers set against the backdrop of perfectly green grass.

Contributed by Sarah.

On Apathy

I read the following text at a fund-raiser for Ebenezer Basic School in Jamaica.

You see, I have been abroad before. A month in Egypt. A January back-packing through Europe. But I was always a tourist. I may have gone to learn and to experience, but in Jamaica, I had my first real chance to contribute.

I fear succumbing to apathy, that insidious whisper within, saying: "Don't worry about that, someone else will take care of it" or "You'll do something when you're older and financially stable."

I fear apathy because every time I defer to that whisper, I lose some of my compassion. I lose some of my humanity. The loss of those two--however gradual--is something I will not bear.

Apathy's insidious whisper can be outshouted by action. Though action is most effective when deliberate and articulate, it does not necessarily start that way. In my experience, the choice to finally do something is awkward and clanging and maybe even bumbling. But it is noisy and, in the beginning, that is enough.

Our team helped make some noise in Bamboo. Thank you for helping to make more.

American Dream II

I learned the American Dream from a billboard above a hardware store on Randolph and Fairview.

It read:

No lawn to mow,
gutters to clean
or leaves to rake.
AH...FREE TIME!

What did that one guy say? Something about the kingdom of God being here already?

By Flashlight

I like to read before I fall asleep. A month ago or so, my lamp broke and I have not replaced it. Because I do not want to get out of bed and walk over to the light switch when it's time to sleep, I read by flashlight, like a kid who is trying to stay up past his bedtime.

A few nights ago I was reading Hocus Pocus by Vonnegut; one of his best in my opinion. I thought I noticed the light dimming a bit as I had about twenty pages left. By the time I had ten left it was clear the batteries were dying. As if the light were holding on until I was done, just as I finished the last sentence everything faded to black.

Contributed by Nick.

That Girl in the Library

I was at the library today, planning a bridal shower with a friend, when an old man interrupted our conversation. He said, "Excuse me, but I've been listening to you for quite some time now, and it sounds like you were talking about the universe. It sounded interesting. But, I couldn't hear everything that you were saying."

I smiled and said, "Oh no sir. Nothing as exciting as the universe. Just a wedding shower."

Thinking we were done, I began to turn away, and heard him say, "Now, I've been wondering about that. It seems to me that there is only one reason we are in weddings -- It is so we know we have friends."

I shifted in my chair so I could square off with him and I looked in his eyes as he talked. He was lonely. From his sunken eyes to his stutter, he was all alone. He mused about the money we spend to prove we have friends. That maybe the bride should pay for everything. Better yet, we should all come as we are to show acknowledgment. But, we should wait to celebrate until a couple reaches 20 years. He rambled on topic for a bit before saying he could be wrong and asked me if I agreed. I said if it were me, I would have a celebration of the joining of two families and focus on the marriage, not the wedding.

He got an eerie all-knowing look in his smile and proceeded to tell me about my life. How someday soon I'll fall in love and have an outlandish wedding. How on holidays I'll stop by my side of the family quickly on the way to my in-laws. Because the in-laws will be the 'correct' side of the family. How my parents will ask why I don't come over and I'll be too nice to tell them the truth--that though they raised me, they're a bunch of jerks. He said that all that won't be important though, because I don't know the answer to the most important thing in life. I don't know where I'm going when I leave... The library had to close and flustered, he stood, adjusted his cap and walked out.

And, I didn't bother to tell him that in telling me who I am, he forgot to ask me. I didn't tell him that when he put me into a hole, he put me in the wrong hole. But I don't think that was really important today. Because, as he goes home to an empty house, and has his ritual nightcap, I like to think that he'll go to bed a little less lonely. Because he knows a sweet, naive girl from the library.

Contributed by Catie.

Coincidence

Lately I've been noticing coincidences. I don't attach any particular meaning to them, but I do take notice nonetheless. The other day I was biking to Rainbow Foods to get a few things to cook dinner with. Leaving my house, I had to stop and give the right of way to a girl an a bike going the same way. So I followed after she passed and I caught up at the red light on University Ave. The light turned green, she went on, and a half block later I turned into the parking lot of Rainbow. Once there I realized I had forgotten my wallet, so I went back home, retrieved it, and returned.

After I paid for my groceries, I left and returned home the same way I had came with my plastic Rainbow Foods bag in hand. Once again I was stopped by the same red light on University Ave. As I waited for the light, another biker came up and stopped to my left. I looked over and noticed it was the same girl that had been next to me at the light on the way there. I said 'hey', and she said the same. We both had the smile on our face of someone who just noticed something odd. The light turned green and she rode away without another word, carrying a plastic bag from Cub Foods.

Contributed by Nick.

Planting Carrots

My two-year-old was helping me plant the garden today. This is the third time we've been in the garden so far this year, so he's starting to get the hang of things. As I was busy getting ready to plant a row of onions I happened to look up and caught him doing something beautiful.

He had an unopened packet of carrot seeds (with the picture of carrots on the front) in his little hands and was planting it in its entirety in a big mound of dirt. He gently placed the packet of seeds and then carefully placed dirt over top of them. He then tapped the top of the dirt just like I'd shown him yesterday and smiled at what a fine job he had done.

Maybe by next year he'll understand that the seeds should come out of their package before you plant them, but I'm not sure it'll make me any happier than I was today watching him plant carrots in his own beautifully innocent way.

Contributed by Sarah.

American Dream

I went to a birthday party for my friend's father on Saturday. He turned 50.

My friend, Josh, and I stepped out of the bar to get some air. We sat in the grass on the highest hill in Maple Grove.

"Where are we?" Josh asked.

I swept my hand over the suburban houselights stretching off into the distance and the vacant development lot immediately below. "My friend, we are smack dab in the middle of the American Dream," I said. "How does it feel?"

Josh squinted and held his thumb and finger out in front of his face like he was about to pluck one of those houselights from the horizon. "Small," he replied. "It feels like it should be bigger."