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Dear Readers,
You’re right. This mailing wasn’t on the calendar. Experiences written for you today are really the reasons for Staying Awake. The original purpose and still the heart of this newsletter is to stay awake to synchronicities and those “Surprise!” nudges—not to be taken for granted. Staying Awake Archive 2004 has many good stories.
A friend noted: These stories may help us relate to nudges, to trust nudges by responding to them, and see the gifts Universe provides without provocation. We Earthlings, so whelmed by it all, often forget to say thank you!
I’m considering sending stories, like the three in here, maybe every other month or so. If you have a story about a synchronous moment in your life, feel free to send me your submission after clicking to read this page. Maybe, I’ll send an extra ezine with nothing but quotes, which I’ve done, and some of you really enjoyed that. Feel free to email me your thoughts about periodic unscheduled mailings. Thanks!
What makes these dissonant, seemingly unbalanced times fascinating is Earthlings who are able keep doing, being together; coping, cajoling, being curious and courteous; wondering about our global sisters’ and brothers’ well being.
Blogs reveal peoples’ real time experiences around the world. Not always am I able to emotionally absorb what I’m reading, but I do feel the instant touch of empathy. Just a few days ago, I read this comment on a blog, and there’s a chance the writer was sitting some where in the Middle East.
“When we've finally achieved a uniformly scorched Earth, maybe humanity will still shine forth with the simple cooperation of neighbors and compassion of strangers.
“[It’s] funny, but when I started reading around ‘these parts’, I thought humankind was really ready to take the next step towards a true shift. Now I'm resigned to that shift taking place only through the survivors of the survivors.
“The test for us then is to retain our dignity and humanity in the face of all [dilemmas]… Good luck to all my friends.”
I wept.
Greet a Stranger
Recently, in a late weekday afternoon, there was an unexpected knock at my front door. Seldom do I open the door to greet a stranger, especially thinking it’s going to be a sell. Yep, the gentleman was selling cable TV subscriptions. I told him I didn’t watch TV, which is true, and thanked him for dropping by.
Not but a few moments after shutting the door, I thought to give him money. Why else had the gentleman taken a job selling door to door? He and his family might be hungry. I had three bucks in my wallet. All I could feel was ‘go find the man, and give him the money.’
Well, I raced around like crazy to throw on some shoes. How could I not be awake to such a strong nudge?! I walked outside for a while, and no sign of the man who couldn’t have gone very far. When I turned around to go home, there he was walking toward me. I was startled—he was walking toward me! Once I gave the man the cash, he looked me square in the eye over the top of his glasses, and said, “This is from heaven.” I said, ‘Yes, that’s where I found it.’
We grinned real big at each other. He went on. I walked back into my home, and perched myself at this computer to write the story. Amazed, all along, that staying awake to a possibility, to a relentless nudge would keep me in motion until relief came by seeing the man. Say what you will, and I’ll respond with I want to believe that that experience in some way will be how we’ll feel communication in the future, a time uninterrupted by assaults on our sensibilities.
UnAwake to a Possibility
Several weeks ago on a sunny Friday morning, I decided to return to a local retailer a coffee maker that had turned out to be a dud. It stopped heating and pumping water after about four weeks. Like, what can I expect of a $15.00 coffee maker?The retailer easily exchanged cash for the dud, and I decided I’d buy another maker for $5.00 more. Found it. Got it. Put it in my market cart. This maker had something special: a timer. Whoopee!
Well, that was easy enough. Why not shop for some soda, maybe some potatoes to bake, and who knows what else. In the soda department, I asked another shopper which kind she liked best. That opened an avalanche of monolog about her niece, the nurse.
I listened to her endlessly while she fingered every soda carton on every single shelf. I kept shifting my weight from one foot to the other, probably looking like a calf caught under a fence.
Without any help whatsoever, I ended up choosing my favorite see-through, diet, uncarbonated beverage. I said, ‘Well, listen, it’s been nice talking. I gotta go.’ I waited for her to respond to my leave, but that was too much to ask. To which I turned leaving the aisle breathless, hearing her still talking in the background. At the top of the aisle, I turned around just to make sure, and, yep, she was still talking. To herself.
Off to another aisle for milk, then vegetables, then light bulbs. Upon returning to the main aisle freeway of shoppers, I said a friendly ‘Hello’ to a man briskly walking the opposite direction with hand held basket. I gave pause. Stopped. Turned around. He had already turned around, and was looking at me with sunglasses down his nose. He had just come into the store.
I hadn’t seen him in ten years. He’s a singer for whom I played piano some years back, and he’s now an artist, a painter. Now, who would’ve guessed? I was unawake to a possibility of synchronicity. Had I not spent time listening to the lady in soda whose niece was a nurse, I would’ve likely missed greeting, chatting, hugging a long-misplaced friend. Pray tell. Who’s next?
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The future is not some place we are going, but one we are
creating. The paths are not to be found, but made. And the activity of making them
changes both the maker and their destination.
~ John Schaar, scholar, political theorist, Professor Emeritus at UC Santa Cruz
USA
Staying Awake :: an ezine with your awareness in mind