Have you ever seen the movie Field Of Dreams? It’s a great story about redemption, forgiveness, regret, and hope. But it also speaks to just how connected we truly are. At least I think so. Well, it has a part in this story. But let me start with an event that occurred a couple of months ago and perhaps just a little background information.

Part I The Struggle

Thanks Wayne

We are living in very uncertain times. It feels like the whole world is on fire. Plus, we all have our own personal fires to worry about. This can be overwhelming. This IS overwhelming.

Besides worrying about the current state of our world, our country, and our deep divisions, like many of you, I still have my own challenges. And, everything feels like the sky is falling and crushing me, crushing us all.


It was late in the day. I had just come from my physical therapy session which was an epic fail. I felt defeated. I began to wonder if I would make it to 60. I am 52 now.

My disease has progressed.  I get sick to my stomach after most meals.  I now use a cane because my balance is so screwed up and I am dizzy all the time. My brain is foggy. And then there is the unrelenting pain. All of which makes managing my clinical chronic depression increasingly more difficult. Hence, my lack of writing and posting stories as often as I used to.

Well, the night is my companion.
And the highway is my home.
Got me seekin’ for one last beacon.
Every single place I roam.

I arrived at Walgreens to pickup some prescriptions. But after I parked, I sat in my car crying and beating the dash, the steering wheel, the roof, and the passenger side seat. An elderly man walked by and pretended not to notice.

The present has been so troubling I have been living in the past, constantly thinking of my younger days, my glory days.  I have even dreamed of being back in high school, playing on the varsity soccer team against a huge rival. I remember running. God, I loved to run. I felt so invincible then, so alive, so free.

And then there are all the memories of my flying days. My friends and I would hop in a plane and head to another city or just go up for a cruise around downtown Dallas. That city has a wonderful skyline all lit up at night. Anyway, you get what I am saying. The past is where I prefer to dwell and dream. And, those dreams have been vivid.

If we can’t be kind to each other, what’s the point?

I pulled myself together and headed in to get my scripts and a few other items. I turned the corner near the shelf where the Nyquil was and there he was, the man who walked past me during my in-car meltdown. Fuck.

Now at this point I was molding that pain into anger and I did not want to interact with another human being except the pharmacy technician.

I sized him up with one glance and knew any interaction with him was going to be frustrating. But the man was standing right in front of the damn Nyquil as if he knew I would be coming for it.

He was wearing jean overalls and a worn t-shirt. He had on a Texas Rangers cap that looked like he purchased it back when George W. Bush was a partial owner and still drinking a ton of scotch. By the look of his jaw and lips set further inward it was clear he had no teeth.

He smiled  and warmly greeted me. But I wasn’t having it. Just get out of my way and let me grab my Nyquil.

“Feeling under the weather today?” He added after his initial attempt to engage. Finally I relented and offered a brief but polite retort, telling him it had been a hell of a day.

And within seconds he began to tell me about his day. He had been doing yardwork most of the day. I kept the back and forth brief and politely told him, now that I had my Nyquil in hand, that I needed to head to the pharmacy in the back to get some prescriptions. Heavily leaning on my cane, I wobbled off to the pharmacy.

There was a decent sized line and I was already in alot of pain but I needed my meds. The next thing I know, Wayne, as he had introduced himself back in the cold and allergy section,  had walked up to the counter and spoke to the pharmacy technician and pointed back at me. I couldn’t hear what he said but Mohammed, the tech, looked back at me and recognized me. “Mr. Carlson, I will keep your place in line if you would like to sit down,” said Mohammed.  I was relieved and did exactly that. Wayne came over and sat by me. Turns out, he was waiting on  scripts of his own. And so we began  talking. I got to know Wayne a little and as we sat there talking, my anger slowly began to dissipate.

Wayne used to be a trucker. He used to work for a meat company and made deliveries everywhere. He is now retired. And, at 82 he keeps busy by mowing his neighbors yards. Speaking with a toothless mouth, he joked about how his wife warned him not to go out and talk to people in such a state because they would think he is a crazy person.  But his big smile and friendly demeanor more than compensated for the lack of gnashers. Besides, one person’s crazy is another person’s uncle joe.

He didn’t feel like putting his dentures in just to go to Walgreens. We both chuckled. I told him how I thought what he did for his neighbors was very generous and kind. His response struck me. He simply said, “If we can’t be kind to one another, what’s the point?”

I asked him about his Rangers hat and if he thought they would beat Houston in the ALCS championship to make it into the world series. Without skipping a beat he said “Chris,  we are gonna win the world series! It’s a done deal.”
Wayne has lived in the Arlington area since the 1970s. He has been going to Rangers games since 1972 when they moved to Arlington and became the Texas Rangers. They had played in D.C. as the Washington Senators for 10 years before that. I too have been a Rangers fan having grown up in Arlington only a few miles from where they play. I remembered going to Arlington Stadium as a boy for day games. That place had absolutely zero shade and it could get very hot. But going to baseball games just seemed like something everyone did; it was a normal communal activity.

About a half hour past by before it was time to get my scripts. But in that half our I found myself enjoying this conversation about baseball and forgot, just for a little bit about my pain, anger, and sorrow. And, as crazy and divided as we are right now, I felt a sense of community and kinship with this man who had made enough small hints and comments for me to recognize we are on opposite sides of the political spectrum. In that moment I didn’t give a shit. This man showed me kindness and he is my neighbor, part of my community. We are connected.

Wayne likes to bring his prescriptions in and wait while they fill them. So he always spends about an hour or more in the store, chatting with employees and customers alike.

So at this point, I have a question, well, two questions really.

Do you believe in angels? What is your idea of an angel?

I can tell you from my own experience, angels come to us in many ways when we need them most, but often through other people, people like Wayne. His kindness that day was the little miracle that gave me hope for both my personal journey and for our current political discourse.

When I was 12 or 13, I remember being upset about something. Perhaps it was over some of my great insecurities as a boy. But that night I walked outside in the hot summer air. I walked into the street under the streetlight and asked if God was real. Right after I challenged God for proof, the streetlight began to flicker and went out for a few seconds, then flickered back on. I know, sounds corny, right? But ever since then, anytime I drive by a streetlight that begins to flicker, I take it as a reminder that God is active in my life. And, he is saying hello, keep going. I have your back.

The unambiguous logic of ambiguity.

Yet, the struggle continues. There just ain’t no quick fix, easy button, free parking option in life. This shit is hard. And it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. It’s kinda funny though, there are definitely moments when I don’t know what hurts more, my personal struggle or our shared trouble of division, hate, fear, and violence.

We are losing this war we are waging against ourselves. No one of us is absolutely right about anything we are fighting over. That  makes the case for the unambiguous logic of ambiguity, and why noone should be ambivalent about it.

Lyrics to this next song are incredible to me. Here is a partial copy of them. Let me know what you think.

Truth

“I’ve seen a million numbered doors on the horizon
Now, which is the future you’re choosing before you go dyin’?
I’ll tell you about a secret I’ve been undermining
Every little lie in this world comes from dividing
Say you’re my lover, say you’re my homie
Tilt my chin back, slit my throat, take a bath in my blood, get to know me
All out of my secrets
All my enemies are turning into my teachers
Because, lights blinding, no way dividing what’s yours or mine (ooh)
When everything’s shining (ah)
And your darkness is shining
My darkness is shining (ah-ah-ah)
Have faith in ourselves
Truth“

The sun had set while Wayne and I spoke. As I drove home, two streetlights began to flicker as I passed under them.

Oh, as I left the store Wayne’s last words to me were, “Hey, you are going to be ok.” He said that as confidently as he did when he said the Rangers would win the world series.

The Rangers beat the Houston Astros 5-4 in Houston to go up 2 games to none that night.
Something magic was starting. And, while I was thrilled about the Rangers, that magic was stirring in me. Perhaps this was the spark I needed. I have been on a serious losing streak.

It’s easy for all of us to get so caught up in our own shit that we forget everyone else has challenges too. It’s also easy to miss the opportunity to make a friend, have a positive experience, or simply be open to the grace all around us. That, is when we lose hope.  Sometimes we are left with nothing but the tender mercies of others. It’s okay. That is why we are all connected. That was by design.

PART Ii The Scars coming soon.

Be love. Be kind, because we all continue to struggle in one way or another.

Life is ALWAYS better with a soundtrack.

#kindness #purposefulkindness #drivingawaydepression #WhatAWonderfulWorld #hope #peace #joy #love #streetlights #grace #TheKindnessClub #lifeisbetterwithasoundtrack #weareallconnected #findingjoy
#AllMyEmptySpaces
#StreetLightsOnASaturdayNight