Secret O' Life

 Week Thirty-one: Secret O’ Life

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time

any fool can do it

There ain’t nothing to it

…

The secret of love is in opening up your heart

It’s okay to feel afraid

But don’t let that stand in your way

‘Cause anyone knows that love is the only road

And since we’re only here for a while

Might as well show some style

…

Now the thing about time is that time isn’t really real

It’s just your point of view

How does it feel for you?

Einstein said he could never understand it all

Planets spinning through space

The smile upon your face

Welcome to the human race

…

Try not to try too hard

It’s just a lovely ride

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time

—James Taylor, The Secret O’ Life, from the album JT

I heard this song recently and was immediately reminded that as a very young teacher I often quoted the line “the thing about time is that time isn’t really real.” I think I was trying to be philosophical with my ten-year old charges, but probably I just confused them. In any case, I love this song. In fact I love this song so much that when I got home I asked Alexa to play it for me… three more times!

In the second sophomore semester prior to my twentieth birthday I had been married for a year and had a daughter approaching her first birthday. I was away at college, and Deb and Julie lived with my in-laws. And although I traveled home weekends as often as possible, I was not well. Anxiety was a constant companion. I did not sleep well. Often I did not sleep.

One floor below my room in the dormitory lived a guy named Tom. An interesting guy, Tom. I don’t remember him ever not smoking. Memories are tricky, I know, and there’s little doubt that some fifty years later I am getting some things wrong, but Tom’s smoking is not one of them. I remember Marlboros and a chessboard and his close reading of a book by Jane Roberts titled “Seth Speaks”. Tom almost never went to class, which as it turned out was why he was gone soon after the time I am describing. 

When I told Tom about my insomnia, he had a suggestion. His advice was simple: lie flat on my back with arms and legs away from my torso and each other. He told me to will my body to sleep one section at a time. “Toes go to sleep. Insteps go to sleep. Heels go to sleep. Ankles go to sleep, etc.” As odd as that procedure sounds, and it was (to me), at first I didn’t get far along before my mind wandered away from what I was doing. When I told Tom how bad I was at it, he smiled and told me that was the point. He wanted me to free my mind from the stressors that kept me awake. According to Tom, I was allowing my mind to decide its thoughts.

And he added, “You can see the future.”

I used his advice. Finally I could sleep, and as weird as it might sound, I saw things that eventually came to be. I know, I know, there’s my convenient memory again. Hear me out.

As the days passed my vision was eerily the same night after night. I took note. I kept track. Looking back I realize the “visions” were nothing more than dreams. In my dreams I had an aerial perspective. Much as a bird in flight might see, I could see a pine forest. As the nights passed my dreams included a clear view of a rope swing. Like some lemonade commercial on television, I could see two ropes hanging from the strongest bough of a huge pine tree. At the bottom the ropes were connected by a plank, but in my dreams there was never anyone using the swing.

Eventually my dreams included other details of the rope swing property. Time has erased many of them, but one detail is as distinct as the first time I realized it had come true. From my birds eye view I could see a little red wagon. Again, no one was ever using it or playing with it, but it was there.

That was the second semester of my second year at Salisbury State College. It had gone a whole lot better than the second semester of my freshman year, and there was no doubt I was on track to earn my teaching certificate. With the junior year coming up, and with a whole lotta help from my in-laws, we made plans for Deb and Julie to move to Salisbury so our family could finally be together.

I had spent the first two years on campus, and now we would live off-campus. We lived in a 35 foot travel trailer in Baysinger's Trailer Park. It was not quite the Taj Mahal, but we loved it. I went to school all day, and Deb worked all evening. It wasn’t always easy, but we made it work. And with the help of many people including people we barely knew, we were quite happy. For example, we used government issued food stamps at a local store that allowed us to use them anyway we wanted. My dorm buddies bought toys for Julie, who often accompanied me on campus when there were no babysitting alternatives. Some days, even though she wasn’t even two years old, Julie joined me in class. It didn’t take long on certain days before my classmates would ask why I hadn’t brought her.

One day, one of the commuting students (an older woman who had enrolled to get her teaching certificate) called me aside. She offered me a few things that her own children had outgrown. I gladly accepted, and after class I walked to her car with her. She opened the trunk of her car. There was a little red tricycle, and (you had to know this was coming) a little red Radio Flyer wagon.

Baysinger's Trailer Park  was a fairly quiet place, populated with massive pine trees. 

It wasn’t until someone gave me a swing, which I hung from the highest bough I could reach, that I realized my dreams had come true.

…

Einstein said he could never understand it all

Planets spinning through space

The smile upon your face

Welcome to the human race

I don’t even try to understand it all. 

It’s just a lovely ride. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhekXBbOo_Q