BUMPS, PATCHES AND CRACKS

A ride down the back roads of West Virginia in October is a year-end bonus with a capital 'B'. The rolling hills show a bounty of confetti popcorn - verde, crimson and amber - weaving their foothills into a lattice valley of emerald green grass, a lime river carpet. As one might imagine, the road is not of particular pristine smoothness. Pedro gives no claim to a Cadillac ride. I feel the bumps. I notice a truckload of patched road cracks on my Saturday morning drive. However, the nostalgia of appalachian culture I witness roadside, distracts me. I am, at the same time, acutely aware of a squealing noise every time I steer to the right. Towns with a population of over 500 are scarce in the neck of the woods I'm traveling. My atlas tells me that I should arrive at a college town in an hour or two. Before my descent into collegetown USA, I am stopped on the winding mountain road by a long line of cars. The flashing red lights ahead speak of an accident. I see the ambulance. In a moment, I see 2 smashed cars. I pray. I wonder. I am reminded - life is precious. After the chainsaw splits the air, a time lapse - the ambulance drives off, siren-on. The road is cleared. I proceed, praying for the victim(s). God, ever-present - be my protector. Soon, my college town is in sight.

The bumps in 'my road' have landed in my lap. My left front wheel/brake issue from earlier this summer has resurfaced. I'll not list the number of 'check-up's I've had related to this issue. My wheel problem peaked with an on-the-tollway 'bang-thump-rattle-knock' event, shortly after my college town check-up, where a loose wheel was 'diagnosed' (a not-so-small safety issue) and Pedro was given a 'patch job' to get me to my nephew's home in North Carolina. The patch did not work. A two-hour delay for towing landed me at a repair shop that would 'reopen' on Monday morning. As per a book I am reading, I have decided to "Take refuge in the present moment", aka - Hampton Inn (INSIDE). That is - relax - unwind - read - soak in a real tub - be inspired - and let 'the fix' come to me. Thus, I have taken some hours to think of the soul messages meant for just now.

The people I have encountered as a part of this event are numerous, and represent a full spectrum of personalities and stations-in- life. I might preface this expo of events by reminding you that the language of West Virginia is considerably different from 'talking Minnesotan'. Did you ever see the movie - "Coal Miner's Daughter' starring Sissy Spacek? Well, 'that thar' would indicate all manner of speech, 'raught here-raught naow'! Don't get me wrong - there is not a thing wrong with this picture- the people I've met in the last 3 days of my motel hiatus have peppered me with 'sweetie' and 'honey' and - 'enytheng aelse I can dyuh fer ya, m'am' and 'teak care dear!'. It's all rather endearing, I must say.

The big burly man who rescued me from my roadside perch (tow truck guy) was a quiet but kind-faced gent, intent on his work of hooking up Pedro to all the gadgets required for a safe tow. In the half-hour commute with him I learned of a smattering of the challenges in his life. He was 1-week into this new job - a paramedic turned tow-truck guy. At last count, the deaths he'd witnessed in his line of work was 246. The nightmares were eroding his life. His fall-out with a relative who had a perfect 'God-fix' for him was troublesome. Did I have the perfect words - I think not, but I offered the best I had - a listening ear and my care. In private, I pray... for healing to come to his soul.

The two 'lube-shop-boys' who applied the temporary lock-washer patch (45 minutes pre-roadside breakdown) were a genuine 'south of the Mason-Dixon line' duo who tell it like it is, straight up and with a bit of colorful language (complete with .. 'scuze me m'am' after explicatives). After their half-hour work to tighten up my wobbly tire, I asked for the bill... to which one responded -' don't worry 'bout it m'am... my good deed for the day.' I wish I had time to 'detail' each of these do-gooder-boys, it could be a fine moment!

I could elaborate on the tire-shop stop, 5 minutes prior to the do-gooders stop, but the bruskness of Mr. Tire-shop guy would only be good for a quick roll of the eyes.

The young-dude at Sheets Dodge who shuttled me to my Hampton Inn hangout was another of the quiet, gentle ones, who'd just lost his job, elsewhere, 2 months prior. I sensed he was grateful for his new job. He wore his kindness well.

I contemplate these, and a bundle more of those I've been rubbing shoulders with during this 'bump-in-the-road' event. My prayers cover them. God intercedes in sighs, too deep for words. He knows them all. This pilgrm is poised to listen.

The book that inspired my pilgrimage tells me that a pilgrim progresses - across time and space. For me, the time now ticks off just over 4 months. My odometer tells me I have traveled 15,000 miles. I have visited 10 extended family members. Hospitality offered by hosts along the way contributes immeasurably to personal delights and gratitudes. We wandering-folk experience the world in a new way. The customary vernacular of others rings new in our ears, firing new thoughts-new questions in the pilgrim's mind. Paying attention to the lives of 'the small ones', rather than the grandeur of the famous, or of relics of notoriety paves the way for the inner journey to life's deeper meaning. Let me explain - As I travel, there are many historical monuments of significance along my pathway. I have, on occasion, taken time to have a quick 'look-see'. However, the inward journey of the soul, both of mine and of those who cross my path holds greater meaning to me. The works of artists, whose paintings I have observed in a multitude of galleries/museums are, to be sure, part of that journey. Contemplating the lives of the artist-folks, the met-along-the road folks, and the next-of-kin folks has illuminated for me both the pain and the exhileration of life.

As contemplation leads to the deeply embedded values that run the motor of daily living for all of us - the 'How' of it - the 'Why' of it - I find myself in conversation with God. Sometimes I think I have it right - sometimes I'm sure I must have it wrong. One day is sweet - on another day its a mountain to climb. On occasion I think I hear God's voice - on another I can see and hear only a big white, empty space - But, I KNOW the Spirit remains - I BELIEVE in the promises of God, and so - I hang on, for the sweetness and 'The Voice' to return. The scriptural Proverbs are a virtual storehouse of Godly advice on 'how to live'. On a prior visit I had this summer with a nephew on the west coast, he shared with me a poem that helps him in his daily choices. He granted me permission to post the poem on my blog. To me, it is profound. I am certain that every principle in this poem could be found in Proverbs.

I share with you.... "IF" by Rudyard Kipling:

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

..... (and, may I add my 'take' to the last line... '..which is more - you'll soar, my earthling traveler!")

As I meander, I learn from others - I observe with open-mindedness - I learn from the bumps. God willing, I give from the heart - I am becoming - MORE than I was - at least, for today.

Intothewind - Naturegirl