Wednesday, February 22, 2012
One of the most interesting things I ever wrote was on a tray liner at a Burger King while sitting in Piccadilly Circus in London as I observed a man interacting with a series of young women who slid into the booth across from him. It was pretty clear what his relationship was to those women. My heart ached for them, and it opened my eyes a bit to the ways of the world, that so-called "seamy underbelly" a small-town girl from Indiana had never glimpsed before. Then there was the bride outside a suburban Boston Marriott, dressed in her finery, running down the sidewalk alone at midnight. These are the kinds of mental images that stay with me.
Take the time to watch and observe carefully over the next few days, and you might be surprised. Just this morning on my way to work (a twelve-mile trip across a double-decker bridge stretching across the Ohio River dividing Indiana from Kentucky), I saw the following:
1. Four elderly women standing outside the Catholic church, hands clasped together, waiting until it was safe to cross the street. Reminded me of the yellow diamond-shaped street sign near our home in Massachusetts that read "Dear Crossing" with the silhouettes of a "finely-aged" man and woman holding hands in a crosswalk. My eyes well with tears when I see these women, as I often do. It's their morning routine. They'd been to the church, but I can't help but wonder about them. Are any of their husbands still living? How long have they known one another? Where did they meet? What I see is the deep friendship, the caring and the protectiveness they share.
2. An older man using a long metal stick, pointed at the end, to pick up trash on the side of the road. I see him most mornings as I turn the corner onto the main road from our neighborhood. He does his part to keep that part of the road clean and litter-free. But he always looks somber, sad, the lines on his face etched deep, his mouth downturned. I wonder if he lives alone, how he came to pick up the debris so faithfully as his daily mission, and what he thinks of those who throw their trash out their car windows with no regard.
3. Ironically, another kind of deer - a dead one, on the side of the road. A young one, judging by the size. Female. Can't help but think of Bambi recently rereleased (again). Love Thumper and Flower, but that movie makes me sad on so many levels. Just can't sit through it again.
4. A four-car pileup. Didn't look like anyone was hurt, thank the Lord, but a couple of cars were most likely totaled. Some drivers waiting to get past the accident scene were impatient, others bided their time. But almost all were on their cell phones calling work to say they'd be late. What did we ever do before cell phones were invented? They've changed the entire way we communicate. In some ways, like immediacy, it's good. In other ways, it's self-limiting and perhaps cuts us off from interacting and reaching out to new people.
6. A homeless man, a cart loaded with his worldly possessions beside him on a downtown street, poking in a trash can for leftovers. Puffing on a cigarette. I thank the Lord it wasn't too cold last night. What kinds of things run through this man's mind? How does he spend his time? Does he know about the local mission and nearby shelter? Has he been there for the night? What kind of daily existence must he lead? That one's difficult for me. It's beyond the scope of my understanding, but at this point, I do what I can for him - I pray.
7. The Coca-Cola driver unloads his truck in front of my office building, chatting and smiling with the office worker walking toward the revolving doors. The man with the Volvo stops to ask for directions. The group of tourists heads to the Convention Bureau to hear the life story of Colonel Sanders or the Muhammad Ali Center to hear more about The Champ. The business men and women hurry across the street, wearing nametags, going to a seminar. The Mercedes and the Lexus, with rushed drivers behind the wheel, speeding toward the stoplight, hoping to turn left before the light turns. You know the type - yellow means speed up, not use caution and prepare to stop.
8. Multiple school buses, parked in front of the Kentucky Center for the Arts (where I worked part-time until recently), with children lining up by the front steps, smiling and chattering, ready to see a special play. They're happy, full of the innocence and boundless faith of youth. How exciting that is to see. Some of these children might not otherwise have the opportunity to attend a performance here. It's exciting for them, and it shows in their body language, their facial expressions. It makes me smile as I turn into the parking garage. I've seen a lot in just one trip to work, but I've seen things I'll imprint on my mind, my heart.
We can let the world pass us by, or we can stop and pay attention and use what we see to enhance our lives and our writing. Feel the emotion. Glimpse the beauty in life, the hope, and the joy, to balance out the inevitable sadness, the loneliness. All the emotions that make up life.
: JoAnn Durgin is the author of the popular contemporary romantic adventures, Awakening, and its follow-up, Second Time Around, published by Torn Veil Books. Her third book in the series, Twin Hearts, releases next month. JoAnn, her husband, Jim, and their three children live in her native southern Indiana after living in TX, CA, PA and MA. She likes to say she’s “been around in the nicest sense of the word.” She’s a full-time wealth administration paralegal in a Louisville, Kentucky, law firm, and is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America. Her books are available at every major online book retailer such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble, both in paperback and electronic versions. Please visit her at www.joanndurgin.com or on Facebook.