Life's Like This

It’s a forest. A big huge forest.  It’s the Smoky Mountains. When you’re 20 something, your standing at the edge of the forest looking in. You are in awe. Its so big and beautiful. Its exciting and scary.  You are ready.  With all the enthusiasm, you have everything packed you think you will need for your trip. Your trip to the other side where there awaits you a castle of beauty and all the promises of a sweet restful life.  You are sure you have everything. The tent, sleeping bag, food, water, clothes and a great pair of hiking boots.  “This forest is mine. I got this!”

            As you head in and find the trail, the excitement is so exhilarating, you run.  The quicker you get to where you’re going the sooner you can just sit back and enjoy the scenery.

Before long the run turns to a jog then the jog to a walk.  There are snakes in here! You didn’t bring a bite kit for that.  There are huge rock walls that need to be climbed.  There are rivers that must be waded through.  There’s weird noises.  One after another you face things you never dreamed you would face. And things you never planned on preparing for.  Every once in a while, you slip on some damp moss and rock ledges, tumble down a hill and land in a pile of brush.  You check yourself for injuries, get up and move on.  This seems a little overwhelming and more than you bargained for.  When you finally find a peak high enough to look around, it seems the way back to the start (because all you want is rest) is much further now and more complicated than when you entered in.  You must keep pushing forward even though, at the highest peak, you can’t see the destination. 

This is the point on your journey that you begin to determine that you will start enjoying the good things around you since you’re not sure what the other side looks like.  You notice the wild flowers are blooming the most beautiful shade of purple and pink.  The animals seem to have a system in their storing food, talking to each other and interacting in their world.  Your eyes are starting to open.  This crazy wilderness that you realized you weren’t prepared for suddenly becomes a source of peace in all its hills and valleys.

I’m in the middle of my forest.  There is no ending yet because I still can’t see it from my mountain top but it took me everything I had to get here.  From battling lions to warding off poison ivy.  The number of days I have won is all of them.

Happy Trails and keep going, you’ll get there.

The Melting Pot

I grew up in a melting pot. I almost think that kids raised in non diverse cultures have a serious disadvantage.  I loved being exposed to so many cultures every day and completely unaware that I was. I just thought it was life.  Thinking back on those days, I have so many fond memories of people who have taught me so much.  Today I glance into a world that appears to not have had the raising I did.

My first after school job is still my favorite.  The owner and my boss were orthodox Jewish and I had the best working experience of my life.  They treated all employees like family.  I always got tickled before the holidays like Yom Kipper and Passover, the wives would call and remind them of when to be home before dark and the plans for the events.  It made me grin because they would roll their eyes and come back with some Yiddish I didn’t know.  I did learn some Yiddish, 2 words exactly that I still use to this day. Oy Vey and Mashugginah.  My personal favorites. I was blessed to spend time with my boss’s dad who had escaped the concentration camps as a child and I was intrigued humbled with the stories.

On my way home from work every day I would stop at the Dairy Mart and get my 10:30 candy bar and a can of coke.  The owner used to give me a hard time at my unspontaneous choices. Then I gave it right back. I enjoyed the ribbing and I think he did too. I would ask him about where he was from and how he ended up here.  He wasn’t offended that I asked. I was just a curious teenager and I think he was even happy I asked. He was from India, first generation to come to America to try to make a living.  He was always asking me to work for him, but I never did.

On pay day I always had to get my check to the bank at lunch because when you’re 17, by pay day, your car is running on fumes.  As I walk into the bank by my work, the only language I hear is Spanish. I caught myself staring but not because they were speaking Spanish but because I was amazed at how fast those words would just roll out. I took Spanish since 5^th grade and it still took me 15 seconds to say “me yamo Cheryl”. Or however you spell it.

The short of it, I love learning about everyone. All cultures, all peoples of the world. I find stories fascinating and getting firsthand accounts of life unlike my own are amazing.  At no time did I ever feel the need to compare my life or issue a right or wrong judgement. Just pure privilege of getting to know people. I look around me today and feel like we need to stop arguing and ask more questions; stop judging and start listening with ears of wonder.   I know who I am already and I have my thing just as you know who you are and what your thing is. Let’s go get a cup of coffee and shoot the breeze awhile.