Become a World Explorer

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. Ralph Waldo Emerson

I saw in the news the other day that we are about to see a green comet that hasn’t passed our way in some 50,000 years. The fact that it is “green” caught my attention, as it reminded me of the old Stephen King movie, Maximum Overdrive, where earth passes through the tail of a green comet; death and destruction soon follow. The movie bombed (pun intended), but the premise of machines out to get us continues to resonate. 

A new year is upon us, green comets notwithstanding, and as always, it’s as good a time as any to take an inventory of our lives and see what adjustments we might want to make. I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions, as such, but it is good to stop for a moment and see where we’ve been, where we’re headed, and discern if there might be some changes that would help improve how we relate to the world around us physically, socially, and personally.

There’s a temptation to identify unhealthy habits we may want to fix, but I prefer to address that temptation and those habits during Lent. I’d hate to head into a season of penitence with nothing left to give up!

No, I prefer to start the year off identifying the good things one does and finding ways to build and improve on them. For instance, I have become quite a home-body these past few years. The pandemic severely limited my ability and desire to get out and explore the world the way I had intended to in retirement. 

Well, the pandemic is still with us, but we have tools to deal with it. We cannot eliminate the danger, but we can minimize the risks. We can stay current with vaccines, mask up when we feel it is appropriate, and practice good hygiene (which is nothing to sneeze at, but if you must, at least cover your mouth and nose).

We also need to note that being a world explorer does not require extensive travel (or money). A friend reminded me the other day that it requires little more than opening one’s eyes. “Look at the ground beneath your feet,” he said. “It’s winter, but look at that rock. It’s shimmering. People look and see a rock and move on; they look, but they don’t see. I look; look how the sun is heating the rock, and the rock is warming the air around it. I’ll bet if we lift it up we’ll find all sorts of life gathered underneath. To us, it’s a rock, but to them, it’s home, shelter, maybe even a grocery store and watering hole!”

He’s right, of course. We left the rock alone. Neither of us wanted to disturb the citizens beneath the stone or dampen the microbial rock concert that may well have been under way.

I’d forgotten how much I enjoy taking time to stop, look, and listen to the world around me. So much of my life has involved calendars, check-lists, deadlines, reports, things to do and people to see. Changing course is hard. Learning to see the world through new eyes doesn’t come easy. Listening to the world through new ears takes practice. 

The fact is that everything is interesting; we just need to look more closely than we’re used to. Everything has a story. We just have to open our minds and wonder: what is the story here? What’s going on? 

If I were to make a resolution for 2023, it would be to pay more attention to the world in which I live and less to lists and checkmarks, less time gobbling down food and more time enjoying meals, less time with fiends and more time with friends, less time wasting away in front of moving pictures and more time actually moving, less time complaining and more time appreciating, less time fixing blame and more time fixing problems.

In short, I’ll spend more time outside living and more time being alive to what’s inside (and less time worrying about a comet, no matter what color). Machines have already enslaved us. It’s time to break free and live here in this, our valley.

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

A New Year and the Jack in the Box

All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel; the monkey thought it was all in good fun; Pop! goes the weasel! (The Jack in the Box song)

The other day my son asked me to come down to Seattle to give him a hand with some projects around his place. I am always amazed at just how much the streets have shrunk over the years since I lived there. 

Driving through my old neighborhood (the corner where my buddies and I played stick-ball) now has a tiny concrete island (slightly larger than a trash can) stuck in the center so cars can’t go speeding through willy-nilly. That’s good for safety, but neighborhood kids can no longer experience the thrill of hitting home runs like their baseball heroes. Sad.

Driving down toward Ballard, many of the blocks that once held single family homes now host high rises and retirement centers. Parking spaces are hard to find, and the streets are so narrow it is virtually impossible for vehicles to pass one another. At one point we had to back up half a block to allow a garbage truck to continue collecting trash from bins that lined the street on both sides.

I find myself waxing nostalgic whenever I drop into Seattle. It is no longer the town I grew up in. My heart is still there, to some degree, but I’ll confess I’m pleased as punch the rest of me is elsewhere. The roads are too narrow, traffic has them clogged 24/7, and (to be honest), it has the look, sound, and vibe of a city that has lost its groove.

It is probably quite natural to think of the past and ponder the future, having come to the end of 2022 and the beginnings of 2023. I’ll admit that I enjoy life and have few regrets about the past. There are things I would do differently, of course, with the wisdom garnered from hindsight, but by-and-large, the past is what it is and what it was, and that is that. There is nothing to be gained from getting bogged down in it.

I take the same approach with the future, although it’s filled with unknowns. If one approaches life as if they are in a thriller or a horror movie, then it is what lies just out of sight, around the next corner, or behind that can fill one with a sense of dread and high anxiety. 

On the other hand, if one approaches life with the eyes-wide-open curiosity and wonder of a young child, then it is what lies out of sight that draws and fascinates them. A child lives to explore. A child lives to chatter endlessly with any set of ears nearby (doll, dog, cat, adult, other child) to express what they think or feel, or to enquire as to why things are the way they are.

Somewhere down the road, of course, some stop exploring. Some stop wondering. Some come to a fork in that road and freeze with indecision. I think some of this angst finds its source in their childhood jack in the box experiences. You know, some kids listen to the tune as the handle is cranked, then suddenly, up pops Jack! This startles them, of course, the first time they experience it. They may be traumatized (fearing sudden surprises), or they may experience a jolt of adrenaline and zip through life wanting more.

Over time, most learn to listen to the music, discover the patterns inherent in the mechanical contraption, and prepare themselves for Jack to make his appearance. Some flee, some give chase, but most learn to anticipate and to plan, and to accept what comes with good humor. 

That’s what I like to do as I approach a new year. I don’t bother with resolutions (most of which I’ll never get around to trying, anyway). 

Rather, I approach the flip of the calendar with eyes wide open, listening to the song of the stars (which are far more magical than the weasel-pop song), and anticipating the joy of wonders yet to be revealed. 

I pray for life not to go gray, dull, and narrow like the streets of Seattle, but to be colorful, bright, and wide like the highway to heaven, for that is truly where we’re headed here in this, our dependable, uncrowded valley.

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)