Guys, they’re doing fire hydrant flushing on the east side of Geneva today and from what I gather the happening is primarily in neighborhoods around the Fox River.
This is important because I’ve never actually seen a hydrant being flushed. I’ve always felt they were akin to the elusive Sasquatch and Yeti up north. Signs for this city event, sure, we’ve all seen them. But a horizontal fountain spray? Never in all my time spent living in this wonderful city.
Wait! This story doesn’t end there. Low and behold I did see water gushing from a hydrant on my way to work, in all of its bubbly, watery glory. I almost wanted to stop and splash around but this particular hydrant was in somebody’s yard on Division Street. I’d rather splish, splash, parade around on concrete cement like they get to do in the inner cities. Now that looks like fun. And I don’t like mud on my feet.
It’s a little chilly this morning, too. 57°F according to my weather app. If I hadn’t been almost late for work I’d have at least stopped to hang out with the city worker and his wrenches. I doubt if he’d let me actually hold any of his tools so I’d just get a stick, poke the mud, and chime in with “Yep, good pressure. That looks about right. Valve turn okay?”
I’d have taken a photo or two to share with you guys, but “hands free driving” guys. It’s the law.
In conclusion the guy doing the flushing didn’t look nearly as enthused as I felt while driving by. This is probably just day-in and day-out stuff for him. Another thing on his work to do list. I been there.
I, however, was simply delighted with what I saw. Another thing off my bucket list.
Sometimes life pounds on my door, pounds with both hands to get my attention. But more often than not it’s just few taps, barely audible, just left of center.
When I see those things out of the corner of my eye, the kind that perk my interest, it’s important that I take another look. Stay in that moment and focus. I don’t think that whatever just happened along is an accident. I need to act on those glimmers because once they’re gone, they’re gone.
Time keeps ticking away whether I do something or not. And the odds are against me when I hesitate. If I wait too long it’ll be all but impossible to go back. I can’t rewind and recapture the magic from a moment ago. Magic’s got a shelf life. Unfortunately.
Sure, in almost all cases those left of center taps don’t amount to anything. I don’t always get to find a rabbit in the hat but I never regret at least looking, looking to see what was making that sound.
Ya know what I don’t like? Wondering what would’ve happened, what could’ve been. If I’d just taken a chance, taken a risk, and not necessarily jumped through that window, but at least said, “wait, what was that?”
I’d rather have the thought “well, that was nothing” than my heart murmuring and longing for something that I let slip away. Something that was knocking gently on my door and I ignored. That flicker I just walked by. There’s been too many times where I just kept walking. Just kept driving…
Or that guy I only briefly talked to in high school. Or that pirate ship1 I never got on. Or that barbershop I never went in. Or that phone call from Brazil I never answered.
Somebody told me a few years back that I was meek. And it pissed me off to no end. Because it was true. I hate when my submissive, unassertive alter ego holds me back. Ugh.
Anyways, I’m a firm believer in that the more I stop and look around the more opportunities will become obvious. And one of those things will be a home run. A magical rabbit leprechaun. That changes everything.
Sure, sometimes it only changes things a teeny bit, just for that day. Like I only get a brief experience or flash of exhilaration or whatever, but those little rabbits can also change how I see life from there on out. And then when I look back on those pictures I took in the alley that night, I won’t be unfulfilled.
My heart tingles when I remember the time I joined the parade for immigrant worker rights2 only because it was happening right outside my work building. And the time my brother and I shot a scene for a movie in a grocery store on a whim because that’s where the cosmos had led us that night. And a few days ago when I conjured up the goat by the name of Thelma Louise just for the sake of nonsense.
Those three things changed everything. They gave me satisfaction for a life lived.
Even better: I’ll cherish forever the friends I’ve found because I took a risk and put myself out there. Smiled and said “hi” to a stranger.
It’s like all of this I just wrote… I was driving to work this morning and it was a fleeting thought about how I shouldn’t ignore those fleeting thoughts. That I should write about them so it’ll all be highlighted and underlined in my mind. And then hopefully I’ll stay two steps ahead of my own timidness.
The more we pay attention the more we’ll be given the chance to experience and partake in new and exciting magic tricks. We’ll pull them into our lives, pull the rabbits and off-chances toward us. Because that’s what are hearts are crying for. Mine is anyways. Our spirits are little magnets that attract the likeminded…and as such, our internal combustion protons will seek out the cosmic electrons. If you’d like some science metaphors instead.
And if you have kids and take them on your adventures to Neverland, all the better. Encourage perception and exploration.
So to wrap this up… This isn’t anything new. The concept has been in at least ( two | books ) I’ve read. But I do know it’s more than just a concept or a theory. It’s a way of living that opens secret doors and unlocks the handcuffs of every day life. The world is inviting us, softly, to participate. In so much more.
Just don’t go jump out the window because a red balloon floats by.
A visionary editor who for decades threw lavish parties at his home, the Playboy Mansion, Hefner lived a glamorous Hollywood life, sharing time and photo ops with a diverse cast of celebrities, civil rights leaders and journalists.
The memories, condolences and even some jokes that people shared after Hefner’s death reflect the complicated legacy of the founder of Playboy magazine, who died at 91.
I don’t think Hefner and “civil rights” have ever crossed my mind at the same time. I’m not saying he wasn’t behind all that or that he wasn’t a strong supporter. I guess I’ve just thought more about bunnies when I have thought about him.