The 4th of July my truck got rear ended in a “hit and run” accident in downtown Mystic. My vehicle was the 2nd one she hit. She was caught shortly after and changed additionally with driving under the influence. If she hit vehicles to cause that much damage and kept going, what is the chance she would even have known if she hit someone crossing the street? It could have been me going to my vehicle. Her case is going to a “plea”… I received a registered letter from her that I am assuming she wants me to accept a settlement, I haven’t picked the letter up yet. Drinking and driving is a serious issue and one that hits close to home for me… I lost two close friends this spring in a motorcycle accident, and they are not the first.

But, I’m also not into lawsuits, attorneys…

It came up this week that the State is going after the bar and probably bartender that served the couple on the motorcycle.

What about personal responsibility? Is there any left? Isn’t it easier to push the blame…

I do love my friends that lost their lives. They made a choice. They both lived life to the fullest. We all make choices. We are responsible for our choices. And our choices may affect others. We need to think about our choices. But, we need to live our lives…. yet with responsibility. And enjoy. Duality.

———————————————

And then today… at work. Downtown Mystic. Busy, waiting on a customer, I noticed a large group of people outside and a small commotion. Paying a little more attention, I realize several generations together, guessing at five. Visiting together. Another culture. Infant to Great Great Grandma…. who needed a rest, sitting in a lawn chair outside, a left-over from the art show this past weekend. Broken. Collapsing under her fragile, yet steadfast, matriarchal body. The aluminum frame twisted and tore underneath her, spilling her to the ground. [I didn’t know the chair was even there].

A son or grandson came in and wanted to know if it was our chair outside….

She was a little shaken from the fall but they were so sorry they broke what they thought was our chair…

Isn’t that a little different perspective?

“Anyone who lives in their own world is crazy. Like schizophrenics, psychopaths, maniacs. I mean people who are different from others.”

“Like you?”

“On the other hand,” Zedka continued, pretending not to have heard the remark, “you have Einstein, saying that there was no time or space, just a combination of the two. Or Columbus, insisting that on the other side of the world lay not an abyss but a continent. Or Edmund Hillary, convinced that a man could reach the top of Everest. Or the Beatles, who created an entirely different sort of music and dressed like people from another time. Those people– and thousands of others– all lived in their own world.”

This madwoman talks a lot of sense, thought Veronika, remembering stories her mother used to tell her about saints who swore they had spoken to Jesus or the Virgin Mary. Did they live in a world apart?

…………………………………………..

“I’m going to tell you a story,” said Zedka. “A powerful wizard, who wanted to destroy an entire kingdom, placed a magic potion in the well from which all the inhabitants drank. Whoever drank that water would go mad.

“The following morning, the whole population drank from the well and they all went mad, apart from the king and his family, who had a well set aside for them alone, which the magician had not managed to poison. The king was worried and tried to control the population by issuing a series of edicts governing security and public health. The policemen and inspectors, however, had also drunk the poisoned water, and they thought the king’s decisions were absurd and resolved to take no notice of them.

“When the inhabitants of the kingdom heard these decrees, they became convinced that the king had gone mad and was now giving nonsensical orders. They marched on the castle and called for his abdication.

“In despair the king prepared to step down from the throne, but the queen stopped him, saying: ‘Let us go and drink from the communal well. Then we will be the same as them.’

“And that was what they did: The king and the queen drank the water of madness and immediately began talking nonsense. Their subjects repented at once; now that the king was displaying such wisdom, why not allow him to continue ruling the country?

“The country continued to live in peace, although its inhabitants behaved very differently from those of its neighbors. And the king was able to govern until the end of his days.”

From Veronika Decides To Die by Paulo Coelho

Dare to live in your own world.

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be, we’re all okay
And not to worry
‘Cause worry is wasteful and useless
In times like these

I won’t be made useless
Won’t be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear

My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

Poverty stole your golden shoes
But it didn’t steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn’t ever after

We’ll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what’s right
‘Cause where there’s a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing

My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

In the end only kindness matters
In the end only kindness matters

I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray
I will get down on my knees, and I will pray

My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken

My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
and I am never broken
We are never broken

We are God’s eyes
God’s hands
God’s heart
We are God’s eyes
God’s hands
God’s heart
We are God’s eyes
God’s hands
God’s eyes

Sailin’ home across the ocean
Sailin’ home, we’re goin’ to be free
Down below the crew’s in motion
To defy the violence of the sea
Feelin’ young, feelin’ strong
At the height of the fight
So nothin’ can go wrong
We know we always wanna be fightin’ the sea

The giant waves are rollin’ higher
It’s gonna be a cold and rainy night
The hands on deck are raw and tired
Prayin’ for a sign of distant light
Feelin’ young and feelin’ strong
And the might of the night
Is pounding dark and long
We know we always wanna be fightin’ the sea

But there’s the light and there’s the fire
The harbour quay shines dimly on the shore
We can see the steeple’s spire
And now we know we won the fight once more
Feelin’ young and feelin’ strong
And tonight came out right
Tomorrow could be wrong
We know we always wanna be fightin’ the sea

So young, so strong, so hard and long
Feeling young and feeling strong
And tonight came out right
But tomorrow could be wrong
We know we always wanna be fightin’ the sea
(Sailing home across the ocean)
(Sailing home, going to be free) Going to be free
(So young, so hard, so hard…………FADE)

Being human. Duality. We all battle the dualities of being human, trying to find balance. The ups and downs, the highs and lows, the light and the dark, the love and hate, the rights and wrongs… Judgements. Guilt. Ours and those placed upon us. And the need for forgiveness… to be human.

The Double Life
~Don Blanding 

“How very simple life would be
If only there were two of me
A Restless Me to drift and roam
A Quiet Me to stay at home.
A Searching One to find his fill
Of varied skies and newfound thrill
While sane and homely things are done
By the domestic Other One.

And that’s just where the trouble lies;
There is a Restless Me that cries
For chancy risks and changing scene,
For arctic blue and tropic green,
For deserts with their mystic spell,
For lusty fun and raising Hell

But shackled to that Restless Me
My Other Self rebelliously
Resists the frantic urge to move.
It seeks the old familiar groove
That habits make. It finds content

With hearth and home dear prisonment,
With candlelight and well loved books
And treasured loot in dusty nooks,
With puttering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the Restless One
Insists on more exciting fun
It wants to go with every tide,
No matter where… just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.

One eye turns to the forward track,
The other eye looks sadly back,
I’m getting wall-eyed from the strain,
(It’s tough to have an idle brain)
But One says “Stay” and One says “Go”
And One says “Yes,” and One says “no,”
And One Self wants a home and wife
And One Self craves the drifter’s life.

The Restless Fellow always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins.”

Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

By Wm. Henry Davies. (1871-1940)