So Many Answers!

Trying to remember the questions (A day of epiphanies)

What a day! I’m a wee bit exhausted.

In addition to spending four hours with a seven-year-old and a ten-year old I took two long walks today. The walks were what blew me away.

The first walk was through neighborhoods that I walk through all the time. There was nothing new to see. Same old, same old. But as I looked at things that I’ve been looking at for some years now, answers started popping up. I would look at a tree I’ve looked at hundreds of times and an answer would immediately pop into my mind. I’d look at a building and the same thing would happen. I’d look at a trash dumpster and the same thing would happen. I would look down at the cracked asphalt street and answers would appear to me.

Has that ever happened to you?

As I was profusely bombarded with answers I very slowly started remembering the questions. Some of the questions I asked five, six, or seven years ago. Some of them I asked two years ago. Some of them I asked last week. I was so deluged with answers that it became quite the mental chore to remember all the questions.

Don’t you love it when that happens?

Then during my four-hour play-date with my granddaughters something happened that almost never happens… I got pissed off. They are my adorable teachers that I humbly submit all my attention to when I’m with them.

We were playing when I excused myself to go to the ‘little boys room.’ The girls always giggle when I use that terminology and that’s exactly why I use it.

I was only in the little boys room for a minute and a half, tops. But when I came out I realized that both girls had sunk into the couch. The older one was texting with a girlfriend on her smartphone. The younger one had turned on her tablet and was playing some idiotic video game.

“So I’m ready to play the next game,” I proclaimed.

It was like they could not even hear me. It was like they had been sucked into their tech devices like some heroin addicts are sucked into their highs.

So I raised my voice a little and repeated my question.

They were oblivious of me.

So I raised my voice a little more, “Put the devices down now!”

This time they heard me. They shut off their tech devices and sat up.

“We were about to start a new game. Do either of you remember what it was?”

The ten-year-old remembered, “We were going to play Pictionary!”

The two girls dropped their tech devices (addictions) on the couch and we all ran to the ten-year-old’s room. (Okay, I’m an old fart; I walked.)

For Christmas, I bought my ten-year-old granddaughter a white board. It turned out to be the very best present anyone got her (including Santa Claus). Both girls went completely gaga over it.

So how can you play Pictionary without a white board, right? Of course we didn’t have the game or the cards or the rules. We made up our rules. One of the three of us would start drawing a picture and the first person who guessed what the drawing was won and would be the next person drawing a picture. (I don’t know if that is correct or what.)

I learned that the seven-year-old has this uncanny ability to guess what someone is drawing before they even have ten percent drawn of what they are drawing. She’s just a little bit spooky.

So we played Pictionary for what seemed like hours but was probably only close to an hour. We went on to other real-life, non-tech games and finally the play-date was over and it was time for me to go home. I was relieved and thoroughly exhausted.

As I left I realized that answers had been spewing forth like crazy throughout the play-date. Slowly, the questions started to come forth.

Instead of taking my normal path home from my granddaughters’ house, for some reason I decided to take a rather circuitous route. I decided to walk through the old dilapidated section of town. I live in a rather small town but I think that most towns in America have a dilapidated section. I had not walked through this section of town in about six or seven years. It simply was not on the route from one place to another.

I quickly realized that this dilapidated section of town was even more dilapidated than it was the last time I walked through it. Several businesses that were there before had gone out of business. Properties left and right were boarded up. The area was filthy. Answers started popping up everywhere I looked.

And then I saw an old Mexican restaurant. I hesitate to call it a restaurant. It only had two tables. Their business was mostly take-out. Back when I lived in that neighborhood I ate there every chance I got.

So I checked the cash in my pocket. I decided to stop there because I didn’t know when the next chance would occur. So I ordered two tacos (Mexican tacos, NOT American tacos). It came to three bucks. It was more money than I’ve spent at restaurants in at least six months.

I sat at one of the two unoccupied tables; the one with the best view out the windows. While I devoured the two most delicious tacos I’ve had in ages I kept staring out the window at the liquor store across the street from the taco joint.

The Universe kept whispering in my ears, “Go to the liquor store. Go to the liquor store. Go to the liquor store.”

I don’t drink. Why the hell would I go to a liquor store? But I’ve learned that when the Universe whispers in your ear you do what the Universe suggests. So after the delicious tacos I went to the liquor store. I walked around for a moment and then ended up spending a whole dollar — which after spending three whole dollars at the taco joint was really stretching things. I bought a scratch ticket.

With scratch ticket in my pocket I headed home. Answers kept popping up into my consciousness as I walked through and left the dilapidated part of town. I then quickly walked through downtown and ended up at home. Gosh, coming home is such a delightful thing, is it not?

I quickly shed my hoodie and street clothes and got into my home clothes. What a relief that is, am I right? The two tacos I ate just were not enough to quench my appetite so I put a frozen burrito into the toaster over (I never, ever use microwave ovens!).

Meanwhile the answers kept coming unabated. I simply could not come up with all the questions. Then I scratched off the scratch ticket and realized that I just won ten bucks!

Didn’t I just say how important it was to listen to the Universe when it whispers in your ear?

While I waited for the burrito to be ready I continued to be inundated with answers. I couldn’t take it anymore. So what did I do? I booted up my laptop. My addiction.

I hoped that this would quell the onslaught of answers and the subsequent need to find the corresponding questions. I needed a mental break.

For the most part, it worked. I was able to relax.

My parents, siblings, and practically everyone I’ve ever known has told me that I am backwards. While everyone looks for answers I look for questions. I have always loved being backwards. It feels so much better. Gosh darn it, if I were normal I would probably end up shooting myself.

But sometimes I just have to turn it all off. Sometimes I just have to melt into mass consciousness and stop being backwards. Trying to be normal presents me with a short temporary relief but it never lasts long. It merely slows down my insatiable quest for questions.

After all, every question is prompted by an answer that we already know.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

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