I sat beside him on a grey tweed blanket intended for use on an Army cot. The lawn beneath the course fiber was still spongy from the prior day’s storms. With elbows locked and palms flat behind me, I sat propped up with straight legs crossed at the ankles and my head cocked right. I watched him as he sat Indian style with hunched back fidgeting with a blade of grass between his thumbs and index fingers. Our chaperones, his parents, had perched themselves a few feet behind us on rust-pitted aluminum folding chairs with green and originally-white webbing.
As the sky dimmed, an air of palpable anticipation engulfed the tightening crowd. Intermittent crackles echoed in the distance, and the Mister Softee theme song jingled nearby. A bearded salesman peddled neon necklaces and flags on sticks. The laughter of young children pealed. Glowing citronella candles kept mosquitoes at bay. I was grateful to have been invited.
The show began with a loud boom and an explosion of raining diamonds. “It looks just like it does on The Honeymooners!” I proclaimed. We were Jackie Gleason fans, and what we were witnessing was reminiscent of the show’s opening scene.
“Yeah, I guess.” Richard’s voice was near monotone.
“Wow, look at the colors!” There was a vividness that my family’s 19-inch Sony had never known. My blanket mate shrugged his shoulders.
With each burst, my heart vibrated the way it did when the high school marching band paraded down Main Street on Memorial Day. “Do you feel that, Richard?” I noticed his hands were covering his ears.
When the display ended with a rumbling finale, we piled back into the brown side-paneled station wagon. “So, did you kids have fun?” Richard’s father inquired.
“Yes,” we replied in unison. One of us was smiling, the other lying.
I never want to forget that first experience of watching fireworks live rather than from the couch in my family’s living room, and I do not want to forget its lesson. My childhood friend had seen live firework displays many times; it was an annual tradition for his family. For him, the novelty of it had worn off. He took for granted what exhilarated me. I could have allowed his boredom to dampen my spirits, but I chose not to.
In every circumstance, we are free to choose how we will respond. We are free to accept this moment or to resist it. We are free to choose the attitude with which we will face life daily. We are free to love and embrace or to reject and exclude. We are free to build bridges or walls. Will we retain childlike wonder, or will we allow indifference to reign? You, my dear, are free to choose. Do so wisely.
Be enlightened! ~ M
he was holding his ears?! that isn't blase--that's something wrong!
ReplyDeletei am only free if i know i am free.
linda
You are correct, Linda, and that is why I posted this reminder.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and writing.
Be enlightened! ~ M
this choice thing keeps pecking at the edges of my brain, and won't go away.......i think, in part, because it just isn't that simple....... there is so much "stuff" we are unaware of that colors our choices--our thinking--our emotions........then i think i should just "keep it simple," then decide maybe that is a cop-out.... i think this is maybe all about responding rather than reacting. yes, that jells. now i can get back to the studying i chose to eschew in order to come here! and, by the way, thanks for a good place to come!
ReplyDeletelinda
Hello Linda,
ReplyDeleteThanks for coming to this good place.
As we awaken to the divine nature of all things, we become more aware of the “stuff” you refer to (which, by the way, is all illusion anyway). In the process of awakening, we also learn to respond rather than to react. In the former case, we maintain our rightful power to choose. In the latter, we give that personal power to outer circumstances and other people.
I like the pecking you have going on. I would suggest that you allow it in your heart rather than containing it to your brain’s edges. Keeping it simple is only a cop-out according to the egoic state.
Be enlightened! ~ M