Don't Wait Until the Line Goes Dead

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Pick up.

Pick up who?

Pick up the phone, damn it! 

A doorbell sounds off in the background.

Or, maybe it was the sound of a honking horn. Or, maybe a knock at the door.

There is a ringing of sorts.

It’s also the ripping and rippling sound of opening something...

It’s Christmas morning, you might think. Tearing open presents?

Nope. 

It’s a party in the parking lot, and car alarms are going off? 

Nope. It’s not that either.

Then, what is it? Some people might wonder. 

It’s communication. 

Courtesy Bluntcard.com

Consider me old-fashioned, or group me in with the pair of Grumpy Old Men types that I saw while getting my car fixed the other day. Although, I think after I tell you what the conversation went sounded like, you might agree with me. That is, unless, you’ve already closed this window and logged onto Facebook, or responded to a text, or ignored a text... (And yes, I'm just as guilty of this as everyone else). 

“He got rid of the woman who was going to bury him into the ground,” said a a Grumpy Old Man at the place I went to get my car worked on. 

“You have to do that!” said the other. 

“We have to be careful, we’re going to hurt this young lady’s feelings,” said the third. 

No, I’m fine, I thought. “It goes both ways,” I said aloud. “I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman, or if it’s a spouse or a friend, we all have one that might bury us into the ground.” 

“What does that mean,” said Grumpy Old Man Number 2. 

Gee, what did I mean? I honestly wasn’t even sure. So, I looked up at Grumpy Old Man Number 1 and he said, “It’s about communication.”

Bingo! Another hot pan came flying at my face. Figuratively, of course. So, I said, without second thought, “Why is it so hard to pick up the phone and call someone? How come we have to text answers to questions that deserve more thought?" 

Grumpy Old Man Number 2 looked at me and said, “The only thing you can do is turn off your phone.” 

WHAT? Seriously. How on Earth would anyone, in this day in age, survive by turning off their phone?

Just then, a young man, close to my age, came into the shop. After going through the few mandatory steps of dropping the car off for work, the man behind the counter, Grumpy Old Man Number 3, asked for a cell phone number.

“I don’t have one,” said the Young Man Without A Cell Phone. Grumpy Old Man Number 3 looked baffled, and I, on the inside thought, I bet he doesn’t have a single distraction and anyone who actually wants to know him knows how to get a hold of him. 

The conversation with the Grumpy Old Men continued for a while after the Young Man Without a Cell Phone left. At one point, I looked down at my own cell phone and wondered, “Who is going to call me?” 

Someone, maybe. Someone other than the hairstylist. Someone other than the pharmacy telling me that my prescription is ready. Someone other than my Mom who calls most of the time anyway. Who knows, maybe I'll call you. 

Pick up the phone, damn it. Don’t wait until the line goes dead.  


UPDATED March 13, 2011: I couldn't help but notice that I listened to Madonna's, "Hung Up," shortly after posting this. It's kind of relevant, isn't it? 

When Doing Nothing is Absolutely Something

"There are no words." 

When I was younger, my Dad used to chronicle my day for me in these little red day keeper diary books. You can see what it looks like in the “About Me” tab up above. 

Anyway, sometimes he would ask, “Annie, how did your day go today?” Or, he would ask, “What did you do today?”

I’m not exactly sure what would happen next, because many times I was only 3, 4, or 5 years old. Just by looking at the pages of the years between 1982 and 1994 (when I started keeping my own journal and keeping my own stories), I often said a lot. 

Yet, every now and then you open up a page and it simply says, in his handwriting, “There are no words.” 

Today, which will actually be yesterday by the time you read this, I pretty much went about doing nothing. I had a checklist with about 15 items on it and only crossed one thing off. That doesn’t look great for my productivity, but for the self-continuity of being me, it’s great. 

I stopped what I was doing. I stopped chasing the agenda for just a moment, and went to a local resort for spa services. I’ve never been so relaxed while getting a massage before. I mean, when I awoke from my last service I wasn’t even sure which country I was in, let alone the city, or which year it was or where I was going next. Now that’s a good massage.

Leaving afterwards, my mind was completely blank. There was only one resounding voice in the back of my head. It came from a Carrie Underwood song. “Change.”

The smallest thing can make all the difference

Love is alive

don’t listen to them when they say

You’re just a fool, you’re just a fool

to believe you can change the world.

I’m not necessarily seeking to change the world, but I do believe wholeheartedly that sometimes by doing nothing in one moment, you can wake up to a nugget of knowledge in how to do something. Yet, for just a few more hours, the thought of doing something just stewed, while I sat and did nothing. The difference between the momentary lapse of action and the ongoing of nothingness is that the thought process makes me want to leap off the couch of nothingness into absolute action.

A lesson many of us experience now, or at some point of our lives, is that our eyes are closed when we miss the “why” of our negative experiences. It’s when they’re open that we see what’s happened. Then, when we close them again, and reflect, we gain wisdom. 

I believe now, more than I did before, that if an experience can be lived through, one must surrender to it. I must not be so quick to observe my own experience, but sit right in it, allow it to sink in. If I don’t, just like Friedrich Nietzsche writes, instead of wisdom, I’d end up with indigestion. 

in that journey to wisdom, there is nothing, until one arrives... at something. 

In the Stillness and Silence of a Moment

The new year is here, so what are we going to do about it? There was just one goal for me as the sun set on 2010 and 2011 was about to begin: clarity. 

I wanted to see it, the year, clearly leave and the new one clearly arrive so that I’d remember the moment forever. It would be a defining moment for me (and I’m sure for countless others around the world). 

As the crowded room started to shout in chorus “10, 9, 8....” I tuned them out. For a moment, like many moments recently and yet to come, I stood in the stillness, and the silence of my own moment. 

Maybe, just for a second, that clarity lifted the veil from obscurity and wonderment, and that always present question we ask: Why?

The answer that’s most often given is one that at the very core of our very human existence is just not acceptable. “it’s life.” 

In that one second, that question wasn’t answered with words. Instead, life answered in a moment. 

Seconds later, the sound, like turning up the volume on a car stereo, rushed into my brain. My eyes lifted open with astounding excitement and gracious acceptance of the new year. Yet, I smiled on knowing the secret to any clarity is in the stillness and the silence of a moment.

JOIN THE CONVERSATION: I like hearing from you, and if you have something you want to share, you may always comment below or email me. Remember, for some of you, this is your journey too.