When on the phone with the dealership and realizing that I would be here through the weekend in Georgia, I chuckled to myself at the irony of the whole situation. I almost stopped at my sister's because it was closer and I was exhausted. I would have been broken down at her house had that happened. I almost took my own car, but decided it would be safer to drive my mom's. I left a day later than I was planning to. So many little decisions went into this crazy happening, that it seemed like I was supposed to break down at my friend's house.
Small? Maybe. But it meant that I got to rest...REALLY rest. I got to reconnect with a girl I've known for years who now lives a life that I'm not a part of...and vice versa. Our boys got to play together more. They got to see dolphins in their habitat, crabs in traps, explore a small island, hunt Easter eggs on a huge estate. I got to love on her teenage daughter that I've known since she was in utero. I got to know her husband better. I got to have the most fantastic meal I have ever eaten, perhaps. And meet the owner who was masquerading as a waiter in one of the coolest restaurants in Savannah. And get the recipe to a soup that may just be one of my signature dishes.
Small...
We go to a party we're dreading and discover that the man we will fall in love with is also there grudgingly. We fail a class and it changes the course of our education. We have unprotected sex and make a beautiful baby. We lease an apartment to a girl who will be your friend for life. We find ourselves sitting in a waiting room in the ICU being told our baby may die when an hour previous, we were just washing our car in the driveway.
Cars, parties, passion, classes, jobs...all small things...
Clearly EVERY SINGLE MOVE WE MAKE, no matter how "small," matters.
I have often said this to people. And it makes them really uncomfortable...like REALLY uncomfortable.
"I know we're not great friends, but your actions mattered to me."
"I know we're not dating, but how you responded mattered to me."
"I know I don't reciprocate your feelings, but your words mattered to me."
Or worse...
"What you did CHANGED me."
My 5 yr. old and I were walking on the beach yesterday...this abandoned beach that inhabited just our little posse of people for the afternoon. So we were exploring, picking up shells and marveling at other untouched signs of life. He paused when he saw footprints and insisted they were those of a wild animal...when we were just a few feet behind my friend and the other two boys. The footprints obviously belonged to them. But Graham's little inquisitive look was priceless. He was convinced that the prints did in fact belong to some unknown creature, though they matched his own in every way but size. He was a little detective faced with a big mystery.
What is it about wanting to live a life that is incognito? Where we aren't recognized? Where our footprints don't show up in the sand as belonging to us but to some unknown subject? Or so we hope...
Are we really that scared of owning our lives as ours? Of being tied to our actions and our words? Of declaring the consequences of our actions as ours alone? Of them being important? Of affecting other people??
I believe we are incredibly quick to dismiss our actions as unimportant, our words as stupid or meaningless. We have a habit of divorcing ourselves from our own lives.
Being with a teenage girl that I love like my own niece has been an interesting adventure. I'm able to see how she interacts with her parents, her brother, her friends, her possible romantic interests. I'm able to get a glimpse into what I was like at her age. Was I kind to strangers? Did I understand that the small acts of being fully engaged mattered to anyone? Or was I just on autopilot, hoping no one was really seeing me? All the while hoping to be seen?
We are desperate to be seen...while simultaneously desperately afraid of being seen.
We are little detectives in a great mystery. This mystery of unveiling ourselves...our thoughts and feelings. Of owning our actions and words. Of staying married to ourselves despite the tragedy of poor decisions and misplaced words and missed opportunities.
If we do, however, want to fully engage we must be brave enough to take ownership of our lives. We must accept that we do, in fact, MATTER. We must be able to revel in the fact that we are going to get it wrong sometimes. That we are going to also get it right sometimes. We are going to cause other people pain. And joy. And anger. And humiliation. And happiness. We must fully embrace the heaviness that comes with living life fully engaged...understanding that wherever we go, whatever we do, MATTERS. We must believe that life is a combination of heightened senses and awareness. We must be willing to live life with a brain fully sober and active so that we are present in our own lives. We must wrap ourselves up in the reality that every connection with every person we come in contact with is full of meaning and consequences.
Eating a meal with me is like eating one with Bill Murray in "What About Bob?" I moan with each bite. I am fully engaged and aware. My senses are heightened and there is no other place I'd rather be in that moment.If I could translate that to every part of my life, perhaps I wouldn't feel so small and unseen.
Because our "little" actions and words change the course of our lives...and the lives of others. Our lack, therefore, of being engaged robs us of joy and fulfillment.
All I know is that I am a small person in a huge world.
And I, Rebekah Rose Crosby Deris, matter. (And I eat loudly.)
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