Observer or Participant?

There are times where I find myself feeling as though I am an observer of life, when in reality I am participating in it. I usually experience this when I am off doing some solo travel of some sort. I love taking myself on little trips. I used to go with my husband to a lot of places and I made commitment to myself after he died that I wouldn’t stop exploring. He was an adventurous spirit and he taught me to tap into my own. Although traveling solo can sometimes be lonely, I have always enjoyed the time to do whatever I wanted to do on a little trip somewhere.

I found myself the other day at the Frisco Bay Marina watching all these people enjoying a beautiful day on the water…friends with their dogs ready to take a boat out, people solo kayaking, people picnicking. I thought to myself, “I wish I could be in Frisco with friends or family, on a kayak, or enjoying a carefree picnic”. I also found myself in Georgetown, admiring the darling little historic houses and shops and wishing I could have a little purple house with bright flowers planted in window boxes. I would love to have an old little Victorian house painted purple with a garden of poppies, daisies and lace curtains. 

Why do I go into observer mode? Is it because I think the grass is always greener? But…when I am in observer mode, I am also a participant. Like on this little trip, I walked my dog on the marina down the dock. I snapped colorful photos, I meandered into some old timey little shops in Georgetown. I stopped and picnicked by the water. And I have a lovely little condo with lace curtains, brightly planted containers with geraniums and other flowers, and a balcony where I can enjoy my morning cup of coffee or evening glass of wine. 

Do you ever experience your life like you are just observing it? The one thing I have realized is that it is all about being in the moment. I know,  I know, it sounds cliché. Spiritual leaders, authors, psychologists, doctors, and others often talk about mindfulness and being in the moment as key to enjoying life and to eliminate stress. As I have often times found myself feeling like an observer I have also been accepting more and more my active participation. That means being a part of what I am choosing to do in the moment and just enjoying it.

The next time you find yourself feeling like you are observing life instead of participating, give yourself a nudge. Know that you are an active participant in your life, and the moment is there for you to enjoy!

Revisiting an old personal post

I drove down South Emerson Street the other day and was reminded of an encounter I had 6 years ago, as I was walking my then dogs Chester and Stanley while living one block away on Clarkson Street. This little house is all but gone, a newer, shinier and much more expensive one in its place. I remember having passed this house on foot maybe a year after this encounter, and met the man's daughter who was cleaning up the house as he had passed away. I never did bring him a hummingbird feeder, and now after reading this again I wish I did. Enjoy this little trip down memory lane, as it has helped me appreciate those small encounters that have a big impact on the heart!

The Elderly Man on Emerson Street

There is an elderly man that lives on Emerson Street. I would venture to guess he is in his late 80's. He lives in a house that needs a lot of TLC-the paint is chipping, there is mis-matched furniture on the porch, and the yard is overgrown with weeds. Sometimes I walk Ches and Stan down that block during the day. He may be asleep on his front porch, but when he is awake we smile and wave to one another.

The other day I was walking down his street and he was standing at his front door with a walker and watering can. His belt was unbuckled and it looked as though his pants were falling down. I wasn't sure what was happening in this moment, and when I looked again he said, "I need your help." Not sure what kind of help he needed, I tied the boys to his tree and went up the porch stairs. "I am caught on the door handle. I think it is my belt but I am not sure." Well, it wasn't his belt that was caught, but the belt loop. I coaxed him to move around a bit as I jimmied his belt loop loose. While I was doing so, I caught a glimpse of a few things: The inside of his entry was filled with old books and papers; his skin was permanently tan, the tan that let me know his work in life was hard work, maybe outside work; his teeth were rotted; his hair thin. Once I set him free from his predicament, he gave me a smile and said, "My, what an awkward situation to be in." I told him no worries, that I have been in similar situations myself (even though I couldn't conjure up any of this caliber). He went on to tell me he was coming out to water his plants. I was skeptical as the state of his yard wasn't conducive to plants.

He pointed me to three store bought red salvias that stood along his front porch. "I bought these the other day. They are supposed to attract hummingbirds. I need to water them so they will live and attract the birds." I told him how pretty the flowers were and how, yes, red attracts hummingbirds. He didn't continue to engage me, rather, he picked up his watering can and got his walker and continued his work. I got the boys from the tree and told him to have a nice day. He thanked me again for helping him.

I was struck by this encounter for a variety of reasons. The most notable one was the idea that the joys of life are found in the small things. Life can be hard, especially when you are a single elderly man, trying to hang on to a house and all that symbolizes. Here is this house, in shambles, with a yard to match, and probably too much for this man to manage...and the small joy this man could muster for himself manifested itself in three, store bought red salvia meant to attract hummingbirds. It made me want to buy him a hummingbird feeder and put it on his porch with a note that says, "From the girl who rescued you from the door handle." Maybe I still will.