(2) "Two People Driving One Car" first
After my arm was sufficiently healed, I mapped out a
10 mile circuit, and resumed peddling.
As I finished my ride each morning, and mentally
added 10 miles, I felt good about my progressive total, as well as my weight
loss. (At one time I had managed to lose a grand total of 55 lbs.
Unfortunately, even with my daily regimen, I regained about 15 of it).
As I inferred earlier, I have been party to a number
of experiences on my daily trek which almost defy credulity. Following are
several what I might describe as visitations which I have encountered in the
wee hours of the morning.
I was a quarter mile from home when I happened on
one of the strangest scenarios of my life. For as I peddled down the sidewalk,
and approached a bank on my side of the road, I noticed a female specter, (for
lack of a better word) on my right. As I recall, the clothing she wore seemed a
bit dated, she was middle-aged, and she stood among the small bushes and
flowers which served as landscaping for the bank.
In her right hand she held a leash. On the end of
the leash was a small, non-descript dog. The puppy never made a whimper, nor
did it attempt to lunge at me; nor even move an inch. On the other hand, (and
this is what struck me so ethereal) the woman at the business end of the leash
was singing, what was at the same time, both an eerie and compelling song.
Well, my friend, need I add that yours truly kept on
keeping on?
I definitely did.
To this day I have no idea whether this phantom was
a flesh and blood woman, or some visitation from beyond.
Perhaps the most amazing situation was one which I
experienced in the past several months.
I had just pedaled to the end of a side street, had
halted at a stop sign, and my bike was at a 90 degree angle to a state road
which I intended to cross. I looked to my right, and though it was dark, I managed
to make out a man, perhaps a hundred feet away, walking towards me on the
sidewalk. On his right was the divided four lane highway. On his left was the
eight foot wall of a gated community.
I didn’t think all that much about it, as
occasionally I run across walkers and bikers in the wee hours of the morning;
(though I admit, I try to give them a “wide berth; never knowing what their
agenda may be at that time of night).
At any rate, I turned my head to the left to check
for traffic, and though the entire 180 of my cranium took no more than 3
seconds, when I looked back to my right
…the man was no longer there!
And at this stage I am prone to replace that second
word in the final six words of the last sentence.
For though I am not one to entertain heavenly apparitions,
(having never met one in 65 years) I have little doubt that what or who I saw
walking towards me on the sidewalk
…was an angel.
His agenda remains more mysterious to me than his
presence.
Finally, as I was nearing home one morning, and pedaling
on the sidewalk, I thought I saw something stationed next to a light pole. It
may help to understand how out of place this object seemed since I have long since
become aware of every hole in the sidewalk, and low hanging branch.
As I neared the object, I realized that it was
animate. A miniature Doberman. And what a pitiful creature he was. Terribly
emaciated and tied to the light post by a frayed old rope. I immediately
brought my bike to a stop. Dismounted. And bent down to touch the poor
creature. Initially the dog drew away from my touch. But as I squatted beside
it, and attempted to rub him between the ears, the pooch realized my intentions
were good, and allowed me to untie him.
After this, “all bets were off,” for you see, he
immediately warmed up to the idea of being released from his bondage, and I
picked him up. He was a light weight, but it was still difficult holding the
dog in one hand, and pushing my bike with the other. (I later learned later
“Tramp” was a miserable 15 lbs. of skin and bones. No doubt, he had wandered
for weeks with little more to eat than insects and lizards).
Fortunately, I was almost home by this time, but the
situation compelled me to place the canine on the ground and lead him; while
walking my bicycle with the other arm.
…Not!
Tramp refused to be deposited on the road. For every
time I attempted to do so, he clamored up my chest, “and would not be denied.”
Arriving home, I immediately scooped out a large
portion of my own Queenie’s dog food onto a paper plate, and filled a bowl with
water. You would have thought “there was no tomorrow,” for Tramp ate like he
hadn’t eaten in a month. (And perhaps this was close to being true).
Afterwards I made a call to county animal control,
and reported having found a dog tied to a light post next to a state road. (I
surmised that the precious pooch had escaped from a back yard somewhere, the
rope still around his neck, and that some well-meaning, but not so smart
individual had found him, and tied him to a pole; hoping that someone would
discover the animal when the sun rose).
The “dog pound” operator informed me that someone
would drop by my house in a few hours, and pick up the dog. In the meantime, I
remembered a friend who ran a “no-kill” shelter, and messaged her. Having
followed up with a photo of the dog, Erika informed me that she and her husband
would be glad to accept the creature. As a result I canceled the order for
animal control to retrieve the pooch.
Later that day I transferred Tramp to my friend’s
care, and within weeks the otherwise healthy animal had gained an impressive
thirty pounds!
Perhaps the best way to bring this daily blog to a
close is by returning to my initial theme.
We live in a country whose population is miserably
overweight; perhaps the highest percentage of body fat that exists in any
country in the world. People start and stop weight loss programs and exercise
routines on a whim. We set New Year’s Resolutions only to “fall flat on our
faces” days later; too easily depositing our worthy goals in File 13.
“Motivation” is one of our catch words. We throw it
around like it is something tangible to be desired above fine gold. And yet it
seems to remain more elusive than gold.
My friends, I believe Motivation is highly overrated
because
…it is little more than a feeling.
Every good thing begins with a Decision. (Only
wrecks happen by accident). More often than not I haven’t felt like peddling
those 10 arduous miles on a daily basis, but I can count on two hands the
number of times in three years that I have failed to mount my trusty bike, and
head off “into outer darkness.”
There’s nothing magical about doing what needs to be
done because it needs to be done. We simply need to make a decision and follow
through;
…whether we feel like it, or not.
Decision and follow-through are important in every discipline of life. Thanks for the reminder and encouragement.
ReplyDeleteMindsets, Decisions and Behavior are such imminent topics
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