What Do You See?

So I realized something today as I came home from a run. I was walking to cool down a bit, and noticed a sign for a restaurant. I couldn't even tell you how many times I've seen this sign; I live across the street from it now, and I've driven past it countless times during my ten year stint in Provo. But I don't think I've ever really seen it before today.

I don't see things. I see what the things mean. What that sign means to me is that there's a red lobster very close. (Your red lobster julie!) But what about the sign itself? What is it made of? How long has it been there? How sturdy is it, how long will it be there in the future? Is it a big sign or small one? If I just stop and think about it from memory, from one of the many times I've passed that sign, I would not be able to answer any of those questions. I just don't pay attention to details. Should I? Do you?

There are so many things around us that just become part of the background. Tonight I sat by an empty parking lot, writing silly things under the moonlight, and then I looked up and saw all these poles all over this deserted parking lot. Poles. What were they for? How tall were they? How many? Just little things that I'm sure I've never even observed before, never had any conscious thought about. It's weird. How much of our surroundings, how much of our world, just gets regulated to the background?

I know that's a part of what keeps us running, being able to tune out stimuli that are not impacting us or important to us, or else we'd be overwhelmed by the myriad of movements and details all around us. But I think sometimes it's neat to stop and look around, and truly see that tree over there, or that person riding past on a bike. A real person, who is connected to me forever from that one moment that we shared in space and time. hmm.

Time

Time since...
~I last ate meat = 2 months 17 days

~I last saw Cloud Cult live = One month (too long!)

~I went camping for real = I don't even know the last time!!!! That's horrible. Way too long.

 ~I got the PT Cruiser last time = 2 years and a month

~I went snowboarding = 6 months

~I last dyed my hair = 6 months

~I got my scooter = 2 1/2 months

~Time till i can't ride him anymore = I don't want to think about it!!!

~I first stepped on Albanian soil = 6 years. Six years people, geez!

~I last did Joannie Greggins = No idea, but Karen, who somehow ended up with the video tape, just sent it to me thinking it was mine and she had stolen it from me. Want it back Julie?

~I got my very own bed and private room = 10 months. And I love it. The bed especially.

~I graduated from college = 2 years 6 months

~I graduated from high school = ahhh, 10 years. :(

~I dropped out of Grad School = 6 months

~I started contemplating this tatoo = 4 months. Rather than scolding me for this one, lets celebrate my show of restraint in not just impulsively getting it done, as I so often did with my hair. That said, pretty sure it's going to happen.

~I last saw Dan = don't even know. Are you interested in soup in pumpkin bread bowls? cause i want to see you and i'd make such a thing for you (and friends?) if it would make you hang out with me. (or maybe i'm just trying to get you to comment on my blog. do you still read this?)

~I went to a hockey game = Almost a year? Was halloween the last one I went to? whew, fix that soon.

~I became the Field Administrative Assistant at Outback = 3 months

~I saw my older brother = almost a year. Last Thanksgiving. that's sad.

This post is sad. For some reason I thought it was fun at first. Now I think it's just lame. ah well. here ya go!        

Ode to Dusk

Oh Dusk, thou art so fair
The lovely gleam upon thy hair
Thy precious sky makes me stare
And yearn thy loveliness to share...

Okay so this isn't really that kind of ode. I just realized, driving home tonight as the shadows lengthened and the sky turned a deeper shade of blue, that dusk is my favorite time of day.

I've had this thought before. I think it when I see outlines of mountains, stark guardians standing out solidly against the rest of the hazy world, their forms gaining strength as others blur, colorless and firm.

I've thought it watching sunsets light the sky on fire with brilliant orange and red clouds fanning out from the setting sun.

I've thought it listening to the night sounds, the noises of the world growing quiet while crickets and birds sing their last songs for the day.

But tonight was different. Tonight I realized the real power of dusk. It is in this time as in no other time that I can be completely, unreservedly, myself. There is some magic power that unites my soul to my body, and all images or frustrations or concerns just sort of melt away till all that is left is my bare, rejoicing spirit.

 I spent eight hours today working with a person I do not particularly enjoy being around. I was impatient and silently sarcastic, thinking mean things I would never say to him like:

"I can't imagine how I wouldn't have put that together myself" or

"What could possibly make you think I care about that? Stop talking!!!!"

One lesson to be learned here is that I am mean and judgemental, which is true but not the point. The point is, until dusk I felt anger towards him and resentment that I must spend the time with him. Filled with such unhappy thoughts, my mind obviously was not much geared towards revelling in being alive and I certainly wasn't feeling my-self-ish; I had shut down almost entirely and refused to make any effort to connect with this human being.

Then I looked around at the deepening night. I saw the trees, and the last rays of day shining across to the tops of the mountains. I saw the twinkling lights pop out as people retired to their houses, relaxing at the end of the day in the cozy solitude of home. I saw the first star appear in the sky (planet, whatevs) and the moon gain strength from the dying sun.

And I felt at home. I felt completely at ease, at peace, one with the universe and the road we were hurtling down. I realized I can never be anyone but me at that hour. If someone wanted an honest conversation with me, wanted to really commune with me, that's the hour. There can be nothing but truth. Nothing but open, honest, connection, at dusk. Man it was brilliant. I can't do it justice but I sure enjoyed it.

This does not mean I made any breakthroughs with my coworker. I pretty much ignored him as I had been doing, content to sit quietly and enjoy the revelry. But I was not hostile towards him, I felt no animosity, simply a desire to sit and reflect on my own thoughts.

Dusk dusk a magical time, the more I write the more I rhyme....

okay that one was no good. I apologize.

RIP Leonard

Well, it's been a long road. Leonard and I first met sometime in June or July last year. We've traveled many roads together. Soon after becoming acquainted, we drove to northern California where I visited Julie and her family, then my brother and grandpa. A long road with just Smalls, Cloud Cult, and the quiet sound of Leonards crappy, treadless tires to keep me company.

Leonard had a mind of his own. He heated or cooled at his own disgression, the automatic benefits somewhat lacking when old age sent them haywire. Whenever he felt like it, he locked me in or out, like in the epic incident when my gas light was on, running on empty, and I hopped out to read a meter. The doors locked of their own accord, locking me out while the engine idled away its tiny reserve of fuel. This resulted in a panicked situation leading me to pay $140 to have someone pick my lock and let me in. There were two more such occurences, though luckily much less expensive.

Then the delightful moment when my backpack, complete with the only key I had for Leonard, soared off Mount Timpanogas and it cost another $300 to make two keys. 

The random moments when the alarm was set unbeknownst to me, and I had to scramble to turn it off in the middle of the night or in parking lots.

But Leonard has warmed me when it was cold outside, his seat warmers heating me long before the heater got around to working. His sun roof allowed the stars to look down upon me as I drove at night. He took me to Sun Valley to visit Smalls, to Idaho to see my family, and to Washington to visit Jackie and Lindsey.

He's driven on golf courses and railraod paths.

 But then remember this? Though he did, in the end, get me to Vegas, it took a lot of coaxing and a lot of money to do it.

 And then. After a fuel pump, after new tires, (6 in the last year), after new brake pads and rotors, tie rods and leaking hoses, the final ride. Coming back from Idaho, Leonard died yet again. But this time, he did not restart.

I'm sorry Leonard, but this was one time too many. This was too far. The boys tried to fix it, ended up lighting him on fire so we took it to a mechanic, mechanic changed the cam sensor then the timing belt snapped as they tried to start it, possibly destroying my engine as well. Basta. I've had enough!

It's been a wild ride. I've spent probably 3 x's what we paid to buy this car trying to fix it up. About a thousand in the last two months, only to lose him now in such an unglorious way. But maybe it's time to move on. Time to get rid of things that are dead  and look to the future.

Farewell, old suckwinkle.