life

A Magical Invitation

Posted on by kwundrow

It had been one of those days. It seemed like every time I got one task completed, the next one fell in my lap. I was leaving a late evening meeting, when she called. I had planned on going home and relaxing, when I saw the missed call from my daughter. My mind ran through the scenarios, ranging from just checking in to needing my help. As my finger poised over the call back option, I entertained letting it go until morning, but could I? The answer to that was I couldn’t, and I called her back.

When she answered, it was obvious she was excited about something. I gathered through her giddiness that she was with my son-in-law and granddaughter in the countryside watching the northern lights.  She was inviting me to come join them and strangely, I was considering turning down her invitation. In my defense, I was tired and it was getting late. It would be a thirty-minute drive and I would have to find this field in the middle of nowhere. I had seen northern lights before and this far south, they were never that impressive, at least for me. But she was so insistent, and my decision was made.

It was all of the thirty-minute drive and without GPS, it would have been a task to find them. They were out in a large, recently picked corn field found just off a barely two-lane country road. As I got out of the car, my daughter approached. “They just stopped she proclaimed, but we are hoping they will start back up soon.” Great, I thought, this is going to turn out like all my other efforts to see northern lights. Just then it happened. It was as if someone had suddenly flipped a light switch in a dark room. The sky filled with reds and greens, shimmering and growing brighter with every passing second. There were towers of red streaming straight up like fireworks. Sometimes, the sky was filled with fan-like displays. The reds faded to orange, and then the greens filled in the gaps. It was a mesmerizing display.

I spent over an hour out there in that field. My daughter and granddaughter were at my side. We stared in awe at the night sky. The northern lights display would have been well worth the effort on its own. But, as I stood there with them, it became clear to me what a gift I would have passed up. She was insistent on my coming out. How had I not realized the true reason I had to come out there? This was what every father craves. It was her invitation to join her. The adventure is so important to her that she needs you there to share it with her.

Standing out in a corn field looking up at the night sky was special because I shared it with her. That invitation I almost ignored made the adventure sweeter, made the experience deeper, made the evening memorable. I can only hope that there will be more invitations, more adventures to share. And above all, that I wouldn’t ever fail to accept that invitation when it comes.

Early Morning

Posted on by kwundrow

We were recently in Aruba with another couple for a week of sun, warmth, and relaxation. I had been given the task of securing our cabana on the beach each morning. Due to the popularity of our beach, you needed to be there by 6:30 in the morning if you were to get one of the much sought after cabanas. This was an easily accepted task for me as I tend to have a hard time sleeping past 6:00 anyway. For the first three days, I arrived right around 6:30 am and along with the other early cabana claimers, would find an open one, plant a coupe of stake holder chairs with towels, and then head back to the condo where by this time, everyone was up and moving.

For our last day on Aruba, we were undecided as to whether we would spend our last hours on the beach, or use them to grab a little last sight seeing. For reasons unknown to me, I awoke just before five am that morning, and lying awake next to my sleepy spouse, decided I would take our chairs and head down to the beach earlier than usual to claim a spot on the off hand chance that beach time would win out over sight seeing. As I stepped out onto the street that separated our condo from the beach, I couldn’t help but noticed the stillness of the predawn hour. Save for the waves lapping the beach, there were no other sounds. The city was still asleep. Where the morning before there had been a fewer runners and an occasional vehicle, this morning it was too early even for that. I was alone.

At face value, loneliness is not generally a welcome companion, but this loneliness had such a different feel. I wasn’t lonely, I was simply alone. The beach, softly backlit by the street lamps of the empty boulevard behind me, was deserted at this hour. Having staked out my claim, I began to walk the water’s edge as the ocean crept up the sand beach and lapped at my feet. Realizing that going back to the condo would be too early for my sleeping roommates, I decided to enjoy my alone time. I headed back up the beach and out to the silent street. I decided to walk the ocean front, soaking in the quiet of the city. As I walked, I eventually found myself at a small diner, the only open business along my entire walk. The thought of a hot cup of joe in this cozy diner suddenly was very appealing. As I entered, I found myself as the only other patron in the diner. At that point, had there been even a small crowd, I am sure I would have left, but as it was just the two of us and the waitress, I grabbed a seat. By the time my coffee came, I had struck up a conversation with my fellow diner, revealing where we were from and what had found us here so early in the morning.

With my coffee consumed and the sun just beginning to push back the darkness, I began my walk back to the condo. Unlike my walk to the diner in a city still asleep, she was now beginning to stir. Cars were starting to frequent the street, runners were emerging from beachfront condos, and the sounds of the city began to push back the silence. A building crane over here and a truck over there each adding there sounds to the growing noise of a waking city. By the time I reached the condo, the sun was climbing out of the ocean and sunlight began to replace streetlights. My alone time was ending.

Though there doesn’t need to be a point to story telling, there is a point to this one. I write it to preserve the beautiful memory of that morning and to share the image with whoever has experienced something similar. We can choose to be lonely, or we can welcome the opportunity for alone time. In a world filled all too often with bad news and unwanted noise, the quiet of being alone might truly be inviting. Do understand, I do not dismiss the dangers of loneliness, for there can be danger when mixed with a sense of despair or hopelessness, but rather that sometimes the best times are those quiet times alone. In those times we avoid the distractions of life and find the ability to refocus on what is important.

For me, that early morning walk with just the quiet of the predawn morning as my companion, will be my favorite memory of our week in Aruba. The sound of the waves, the empty streets, and that cozy diner shared with a stranger were exactly what I needed. What a perfect ending to an island getaway. It was the relaxing last moment before I would deal with the cacophony of the world awaiting me back home. It had reminded me that I had the ability to push out the noise and refocus my thoughts. Here’s hoping you can savor your next alone time, and that like I did that morning, you can find the beauty in the quiet that surrounds you.