The Keys – something only I could do

Well besides getting tricked into thinking today was going to be nice and turning off my air conditioning this morning, anyone could do that, (though as it turns out, I opened windows, but I didn’t turn off the air, sigh) it takes a special kind of nincompoop to manage what I did yesterday.

I have had a life long love-hate affair with keys. I love them, they get me into stuff, like my car and house, they hate me and run away as soon as I am not looking. I could probably have built my own car by now just out of the house and car keys I’ve lost. I had a little yellow Fiesta I bought in 1980 that I liked so much I kept it ten years, lost the keys to it so often, or locked them inside I used to do that a LOT too – twice in winter at the bus shelter I’ve done that WITH the engine running, before cell phones so I had to walk a half mile to a gas station and call the lease people to send someone out to get me back into that toasty warm little car where I had been patiently shivering for an hour – both times the tow truck guys thought it was hilarious. Anyway, I used to carry a screwdriver and a hanger in my bag, just so I could pry open the door of that little Fiesta enough to drop the hanger in and hook the door handle. I even bought one of those little magnetized tin key holders and stowed it under the wheel well, first time after that I locked myself out, it too had fled. I took to carrying two sets of keys in self-protection, that doesn’t help if you lock both sets in the car. I lease because I don’t put many miles on my cars a year and I thought those new electronic keys would be just the thing for me, the first set of them I had, I lost one set within a week. Never did replace it because they cost like a hundred dollars. But was VERY careful with that other one. THEN, they came up with the best idea of all, a lock that couldn’t be locked with a key in the ignition. I thought I was saved and for several years I have been, it has only been house keys I lose – when I moved into my current place 16 years, before I had a garage door opener yet, the very first run I went on, I locked myself out. That screen is still broken from when I had to pull it off so I could get back in. The odd thing is NONE of these keys I lose have ever turned back up. There must be 15 or 20 somewhere in my house, hiding in the dark and probably giggling. I should try a metal detector rental maybe.

Anyway, yesterday, as I now do almost always, I had both sets with me, took them out and put them in my desk, because these ergonomic chairs, if you have a bulky key chain (one of my other tricks, put so much stuff on there that they’d be too big to lose – that doesn’t work either) in your coat, it will catch and as you stand you’ll hear this ripping sound which is how a suit coat sounds when it is being ruined. Two coats later, I started putting them in my desk, except in winter when they’re in my winter coat. So, I was the 4:30 guy yesterday and was talking to Amy near then when we both realized it was past 4:30, so I hurriedly shut everything down and caught a bus. I realized when I got to the Foley park and ride and reached into my pocket what I had done and exactly where both sets were. So as I got up to the driver, I told him I would need to ride back downtown with him to get my keys, he said he was done and was headed to the Brooklyn Park garage, but another 850 bus was coming soon that would go back downtown – this isn’t the first time I’ve done that, three times I’ve driven in, forgotten I did, bused to the park and ride and wandered through it pressing the little alarm button before remembering my car was under the library, well, only twice did I wander, the third time I knew. Before the Northstar light rail, there was an 851 bus that ran to Riverdale, 5 miles from my place, Foley is a bit over 2, twice I got on the 851 and realized what I had done as we sailed past the Coon Rapids Blvd exit and I looked down at Highway 47 from an angle I’ve only seen twice. Long walk in a suit, July both times I did that. I did learn to LOOK at the number of the bus before getting on one after the second one. Though not perfectly, a couple months ago, I got on an 854N which goes to Northtown, not Foley, and if the driver had not announced last stop for the 854N while still on third street, I would have done it again, as it was I just panicked and pulled the stop cord and he did. I will still probably forget I’ve driven in some time again, I do that so infrequently and my little rituals are so ingrained, that I am half way home before I remember my car isn’t there. Although, the last time that happened, a couple months ago, as I was standing waiting for the 850, I was visualizing where my car was – Foley is a BIG place and I never am in the same spot two days in a row – when the library popped into my head as I was getting on the bus and got right back off. I might be learning. Maybe.

This story does have a happy ending though, because a young woman heard me talking to the bus driver and so when I got off and was deciding whether to just walk home or wait for the next bus and hope I could still get into this building (my 24/7 card isn’t anymore) she asked if she could give me a ride – turns out she used to work for us when we were on the fourth floor of the GC and remembered me. I wish I could say the same, so after deciding she probably wasn’t going to mug me, I said, yes, please. She took me home, waited to make sure my garage door opener battery wasn’t dead – I have NO idea when I replaced that last and wasn’t sure about the code either – and it did, and she even came back and took me to the bus this morning. There are angels every where if you keep your head up so you can see them, unlike with keys where it doesn’t matter what direction you are looking. :^)

 

If today brings even one choice your way,
choose to be a Bringer of the Light :^) gene

Next Post

Jon

I woke up last night to the sound of laughing and realized I’d fallen asleep with the TV on. It was 3 AM and I knew it was Jon Stewart but I had to fumble around for my glasses to see who his guest was. Unbelievable! It was Jesus, in his robe and all. His nose was bigger than I thought, his skin a lot darker, but his eyes were more piercing than I’d ever imagined. It was like light came out instead of going into them.

Jon was making some joke about both of them being Jews and Jesus, after laughing harder than I thought he would, said quite seriously to Jon, “Yeah, that’s one of the weirdest things, isn’t it? How could they forget that?”

Jon was all over him with questions from the daily news. What was his take on the whole Mosque/Ground Zero fiasco? Jesus said he’d seen some newscasts on the story and couldn’t believe the drama and fear it was bringing up. “They want to build a public building for prayer, education and community gathering. That’s a good thing. A better thing perhaps, would be the construction of an interfaith building, There’s room for everyone, and it’s these distinctions between religions that’s causing all the problems in the first place.”

Jon looked incredulous. “An interfaith building??”

“Yes, a multi-tasking mosque, with a synagogue, chapel and meditation hall in it. A building where people of different faiths come together to make a better world together. That’s the point of religion right? It’s not about doctrine. It’s a plan for action, an opportunity to be a bigger force for good. Religion is just the map. Faith is the real adventure.”

“I don’t know….” said Stewart, making one of those funny mouth movements he does after hearing a strange idea.

Jesus pipes in, “What could be better in that spot than a building that represents, by its very structure, a coming together, a new vision that goes beyond religious borders? It’s like taking a good idea and making it great. The real prophets of the day know this. Where are their voices? Why aren’t you interviewing them?”

“Hmm, I thought I was,” says Stewart, tapping his pencil on the desk.

“You know why you have border issues here? Because you believe the borders are real, like they MEAN something. Muslin against Christian, Mexican against American, Republican against Democrat-all those borders are made up. You put up walls to defend your ideas-and not even your OWN, but ideas passed down to you from someone else-and then you make other people look like demons. It’s no wonder this country is in a state of collapse. You don’t even get it how connected you are. You’re like five fingers on a hand who think they’re separate and make up reasons why not to get along.”

Jon sat there with his mouth open.

“You’re like children playing war games. You spend all your time, all your energy attacking the “other side” instead of realizing you need to bridge the two sides in order to get across to a higher level of thinking. Even news shows are at war. Look at how you make fun of FOX. What light does that add to the world? All the time you could be giving to real visionaries, all the ways you could be role-modeling good behavior, showing the audience how it really WORKS to bring great and opposing minds together, and you sit there poking fun at another station. That’s really enlightened, isn’t it?”

This was the first time I’d ever seen Jon Stewart speechless. He looked like an embarrassed 6th grader. No pencil tapping now. More like a puppy with his tail between his legs.

“What in the world are you people doing? The ones who call themselves “religious” are often the most immature, the most judgmental and intolerant. What is THAT about? That’s exactly the opposite of what every religion teaches. And I mean EVERY religion,”

Jesus said, as he looked away from Stewart and spoke right to the camera.

“All the religions say two basic things,” he said, holding up his fingers in a peace sign.

“First, there is no distance between you and this one you call God. God is the creative force behind all things. It’s invisible, but you are the manifestation of it. I’m telling you, the Sistine Chapel should have been a mirror.”

The audience laughs, but Stewart stares into those deep eyes of the Nazarene.

He goes on, ” You are the eyes, the hands, the feet of that creative force. That energy is in you. It’s called your breath.” He holds up his index finger and taps on it a few times. “That’s the first thing. Don’t think there’s some man out there pulling strings. Grow up. This civilization-if you can call it that-is YOUR creation. This earth, it is not a bunch of resources to be exploited. It is not to be owned. It is your mother, the womb that you sprang from. You are its consciousness, its neural cells. The whole earth is the organism that you belong to. You did not come down to earth, you came up from earth, as I did. Its well-being is in your hands. Can you be proud of what you’re doing? Are you going to be the ones who kill it off, after all that talk about pro-life?”

Jesus was getting a little worked up, like that day he stormed through the temple turning over the merchants’ tables. Jon cut to a commercial, “And we’ll be right back to hear the 2nd basic thing from our guest tonight, ladies and gentlemen, the Jewish prophet Jesus of Nazareth. Stay tuned…”

They were laughing about something when they returned from the commercial, Jesus stretched out in his chair with his long lanky legs covered by his tunic, his sandaled feet hidden under the desk.

“OK,” Jon says, “You were saying there were two things. Let me see if I got this right. There’s no bearded guy up there on a cloud. That God we talk about and fight over is the creative force inside us and around us? It’s invisible and we’re like….(a long pause) its shadow?”

“Not exactly,” says Jesus. We’re like the physical form of the same energy. The ice cube version of water or steam. Same elements, different form. The sea and the iceberg. You’re all icebergs in the Sea of God,” he said, half-laughing at his own quaint metaphor. “But the problem is you don’t realize that underneath it all, you’re all connected. There’s just one big iceberg with a lot of tips. The truth is, you’re Creation continuing the co-creation of Itself.”

“Oh my,” says Stewart. “Let’s leave that discussion to Bill Moyers, What about number two? What’s the number two thing we’re supposed to know?”

Jesus holds up his two fingers again, tapping the tip of his middle finger. The camera zoomed in so closely on him I could see a scar on his forehead. “It’s not so much what you need to know-that’s part of the problem, all these peoples’ belief systems. That’s what gets you in trouble. No one has to believe in me to get to heaven. A…there is no heaven to get to and B, it’s not what you believe but how you act that matters. If anyone learned anything from reading that Bible they should have picked up that one. There’s 3000 references to helping the poor in there. But let me get back…”

“Yes,” says Stewart. “The second thing..”

“The second thing is this: forget everything you ever learned in any holy book and just treat everyone like a brother and a sister. I mean that literally. If it were your brother coming across the border…your sister with cancer and no health care….your child unable to get an education….your mother with no food in her house. And even further, your brother who was gay or hated gays, your sister who was a corrupt politician, your brother who bombed an abortion clinic, your sister who got an abortion. What does it look like to love unconditionally? To bridge differences, to come together over what we can agree on? Can you get through one day without thinking you’re better or less than another? That’s the thing to strive for. That is living faithfully.”

“But…but…” says Stewart. “What about the Tea Partyers, the terrorists, what about Fox News and hate crimes?”

“If you think they are so different from you, be the opposite of what you think they are and enact that powerfully in the world. Don’t focus on who’s wrong. Just be a greater force for good.”

“Not focus on who’s wrong? How could I do my show?”

“Exactly. Remember what Gandhi said? Be the change you want to see in the world?”

“Sure. I have that quotation on my refrigerator.”

“Well, it’s time to take it further. You’re evolving as a people. You’ve come through the Dark Ages, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, the wrongly named Period of Enlightenment. You’re now in the Information Age. You are growing your consciousness. In the physical world, you have Olympic marathon trainers who run 10 miles or more a day. They spend every waking hour in training, eating the right foods, researching the right clothing and equipment, working out, following a discipline. And in the metaphysical world, the spiritual world, you have people doing the same-they are your mystics and prophets-engaging in spiritual practice, accelerating their wisdom, expanding their consciousness, transcending judgment and radiating love into the world. You might be in that category.,.”

Stewart does one of his choking, ahem things, putting his hand over his mouth. “Out of the question,” he says frankly. “I thrive on judgment.”

“Good to know yourself. You’re all evolving at different rates. In the fall, when you look at a maple tree, you see leaves that are green, yellow, orange and red. They don’t all change at the same time. And that’s what makes life exciting. You all know different things. That’s why you need each other. Like that guy Ken Wilbur said, “You’re all right, only partly so.”

Stewart nods his head in agreement, tapping his pencil on the table again.

“But back to Gandhi. I agree with what he said, but I’ll say it a different way, just to shake things up a bit, which I love to do. By the way, it’d make a great bumper sticker:

Be the God you want to see in the world.”

“Oh-oh, sounds blasphemous to me,” says Stewart.

“You know as well as I do, every good idea starts out as a blasphemy.”

“OK, great, we’re out of time,” says Stewart, as the camera swings over for a shot of the audience. They’re all standing, some crying and laughing at the same time, the most incredible look of collective awe I’ve ever seen. And Jesus walks over like Jay Leno and starts shaking hands with them. What a night!”