What's Up Magazines

Ah, yet another day with fingers poised on computer keys and a huge white space staring me in the face. What words will be written on the blank page of my life today?

So where was I the last time I tried to write? As I recall, I was warbling on about commitment. I was going to break out of my routine box, take myself down to Main Street and wander through the shops. I was going to hit my favorite coffee haunt for a latte and bagel, then meander on down to the docks, sit for a spell, and watch my thoughts and the boats sail by. It would be a day of spiritual rejuvenation. It would fill my empty creativity coffers full of fresh and juicy fruits.

Everything was going according to plan, until I found myself joined by a man in search of a willing ear, who parked himself on my bench and started to prattle on about his life. He turned 73 on his last birthday, was raised in Baltimore, summered in Annapolis, knew everybody in town, but now they’re all gone. He lived in Scotland for a decade and is looking forward to a return visit, as soon as he can muster up the courage to get back on a plane. He has two pairs of brand new shorts that he’s never worn because he doesn’t like his legs, he’s afraid of the water because he nearly drowned in a swimming pool when he was a kid, and doesn’t like small boats. I won’t even get into the part about the dogs, the roommate, the jobs, and the grandfather who built the grandfather clocks, the governor’s yacht, or the movie-star guy whose name he couldn’t remember buying everybody drinks. So much for being alone with my thoughts.

Well, now. Isn’t this a juicy little chunk of grist for the mill? Is this a test? If so, what is the subject?

Is it about acceptance, patience, tolerance, and compassion? Is it about putting my personal judgments, wishes and desires aside to listen to the rambling of a lonely soul in search of a willing ear? Is it about tending to my own needs and finding it in my heart to take care of myself by excusing myself and leaving, or by gently explaining that I would prefer solitude? Is it to wholeheartedly embrace the unexpected development in spite of my personal wishes? Is it about watching my attitude as it vacillates between frustration and guilt over not being overwhelming polite? Is it about learning to be at peace with whatever situation presents itself to me?

Grist for the mill is welcome in any form, and in this case, it came courtesy of a non-stop talker who sat on my bench and shared my space for awhile. Perhaps it is about acceptance.

My uninvited intruder provided me with an opportunity to examine my attitude, and to decide about how I wished to behave. He gave me an opportunity to change my mind, and to turn my thoughts of frustration and guilt into gratitude for the gifts I received from him in that moment.

It was serendipity. I went out to play, and came home with a page-filler. Sometimes, when wandering through the vast expanse of a desert dry of creativity, it pays to break out of the box, go have a little fun, and be open to whatever comes along.

So, thank you, Mr. Bench Man, for dropping into my space for awhile to fill up the big, blank page of my life for a day. I only hope that I was able to do a little of the same for you.

<<< Back