Looking Out

Well it's day, who knows how many days since the Corona virus took over our collective attention. Things have moved pretty fast, the world is in a most unusual state, fret and concern are likely for all of us today, no matter how hard we try to stay focused on positive thoughts, there will be at least a moment where reality says hello, and some type of worry will cross our minds. The trick is to not let worries set in.

This morning I woke up with it, angst. Things are changing, how will we keep up? Who knows? But we will, we always do, there's no other real choice but to press on and adapt as a society, as families, as individuals.

As I look out the window it occurs to me that the snow which has fallen overnight isn't any different than it was last week, or last month. It drifts into the same places I've seen it drift since we arrived here in Montana last summer. The crocus and lilies, responding to the warm spells we've experienced are peeking through the morning's snow. Neither the snow nor the spring plants are aware of what's going on in the human world. The birds, squirrels and rabbits are oblivious too, they care nothing for economies, possessions nor do they fret about death, they're just alive.

Gary, a friend who worked nearby, used to visit me every morning for a few years when I had a taxidermy business in Fort Worth. We would sit and drink coffee before the rest of the crew showed up and he would head to his job. He was a pleasant, older man, ready and about to retire at the time. Most mornings were filled with laughter and story telling. One morning Gary showed up uncharacteristically grumpy, unexcited about the project he was faced with for the day. The finches I kept in my office were being exceptionally chatty that morning, they got that way as soon as the light came on and the cage cover was lifted.

Gary kept staring at the finches, his facial expression alternating between joy and anger. Finally after only about 10 minutes, a third of our normal morning time he stood up, look at me, looked back at the cage full of excited little birds and said "those damn things sure are happy this morning" gave a long pause fighting back what I imagine were a few choice words.

As he headed for the exit he turned and said "It's because they don't have to go to damn work."

The next day Gary showed up and apologized for letting, what he called work worry, get the best of him. "No problem" was my reply. I was thinking I wish I possessed his self-control.

He went on to explain his philosophy of getting through tough days. It involved looking beyond immediate worries to focus on the long-term, big picture, and that in the end we all meet the same final fate on earth. The jest of his philosophy is that as long you're still alive, you haven't met your end. Then he paraphrased, or more correctly butchered this quote.

"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end." a quote often attributed to John Lennon. Not sure if he did say that, it sounds like him, but we can't ask because he's no longer with us. It's a good quote that sprung up a few years ago in a movie, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.

I lost touch with Gary about 20 years ago. I was busy going to damn work everyday, just trying to survive in a world moving too fast. I didn't think much of it at the time though that morning is firmly etched in my mind.

Now, looking out the window at the morning snow, I wonder if Gary is still going to damn work everyday.