Detachment

I don't know if others realize this, but things happened before I was born. Really, they did.

      There were parades and protests, people fell in love too. There were wars. Babies were born, and some people died. Buildings were built, and taken down. Books were written. Paintings were done. There were songs and pieces of music. Diseases happened. Cures happened. Sometimes people got treated badly. Sometimes there were breakthroughs, and they got accepted. Flowers grew. There were forest fires, hurricanes, and sunsets. Entire species came into being, and some went away. People had jobs, and some were looking for jobs. It rained. Lipstick and light bulbs were invented. Religions and exercise routines came into being, and some of them were even pretty good, sometimes, but not always. Nations formed and dissolved. Business contacts were made. Contracts were signed. Contracts were broken. Cherry pie was eaten. Squirrels chased each other around trees. Earth orbited the sun. Ocean waves ebbed and flowed. People sneezed. Couples held hands. Moms worried. Dad's played. People worked too hard. People played too much. Grandparents told stories. Socks got holes in them. Jokes were told. Hair grew. People gossiped. Someone helped someone else. Monkeys threw dung. Camels spit. Children made up rhymes. Crickets chirped. Fashions changed. One person fed another. Someone slept with someone that other people didn't approve of. Someone married someone they didn't want to. People cared. People didn't care. There were murders. Entire communities gathered together to raise a barn for only one person, just because.

    All of this and more happened before I got here. I really don't think that when I'm gone much will be different. I also think that my being here now, is a matter of me playing one of the parts. Nothing is ever missing, and I'll get replaced, just as I replaced someone.

   There is a certain relaxation to it for me. I'm not that important. Special, to some, sure, but none of these things were dependant on my arrival, and they wont stop, when I leave.

    Somehow, I get the feeling that everything is right with this place, always has been and always will be.
    I spent a great deal of my life in causes, in protestations, and trying fix things as I saw fit. Political wonder and Joan of Arc (in my mind), I was going to straighten out this planet, as if after all of this time, suddenly I appeared and was sent it to reform everything. No, I'm here for you.
   I play a part, just like the rest of us and we create and re-create the balance that's always been.
   For now, my part seems best as the nonjudgmental observer, open heart and arms. Sometimes I'm the hand holder, the painter, and now and then I affix myself to a cause. ha...
    The world doesn't need me to fix it. It may not even need fixing. When I can step back, I think that maybe it's (we) are all in a process. Everything evolving, and in my short time here, it isn't likely I'm going to see much of it. 
Mine is just to put the next stitch in the tapestry, and hopefully with some degree of humility, gratitude, even humor and joy.
    We don't have much time, and I seriously doubt I'm here to save anyone from this evolution. I'm just part of the dance.
tina
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Table for One: Ongoing Understanding of Neurotypicals

They were most hospitable, a group of friendly women I'd met after moving to the Deep South, where I lived a few years. I'd been invited to go to a weekly scheduled lunch at a local restaurant with them. I wanted to be friendly. They were very kind, so I went.
  I arrived timely and spotted several of the women near the back of the restaurant. Approaching, approximately seven of them were gathered enjoying around a tall table built for two. Scooting over, they invited me to sit. As would be my usual, I made no big deal of it, and sat, smiling at them reassurringly at the next table at the back of the restaurant. Though made for two, they are ample for one, and quite comfortable. Besides, I don't care if it's Buddah, Jesus or Colonel Sanders. If a person is within my arm's reach uninvited, I'm uncomfortable.
    As minutes passed, and I'd ordered a diet soda and a salad with chicken, a few more ladies came in, and my table for one, now had three. These two, like myself, had declined the togetherness of the more social table, but we could hear what was being said, and participate if we liked just fine.
   There was the rumble of restaurant noises and the chatter from all over the room, but upon hearing of a missing person, I focused hard. One of the ladies at the next table was very concerned mentioning his name, and saying that they couldn't find him anywhere. "Oh, NO!"  I thought. "Not another one."
   Recently a man had gone camping in the woods there. He'd gotten lost, as rumor had it. many had. He did not find his way out for three days in 100 degree farenheight plus temperatures, and was badly shaken and dehydrated when he did. I feared people could die out there. My mind contrived images of someone dragged into the black water and being eaten in chunks by alligators.
   I thought, "Who is this man?, Is he from here?, Does he have family here? and How can I help?!!!"
   Another lady looked just as distraught saying she hadn't heard anything either. They all appeared sad to me, when one said, "Well, I bought mine at (store name here)."
   I thought the poor lady had lost it. What did that have to do with the missing man?!
   Another lady added that they used to carry, "It" at another store. I was lost. It wasn't until one lady said that she got her "Purse" at some store that I realized it.
    The man's name that they "Could not find," was infact the brand name of.....yes, a purse.
    I do not mean to belittle the importance of purse procuring, but I was annoyed. I had spent good energy focusing over the crowd for several minutes for a purse. I liked them. I just didn't understand the ways of the purse. Perhaps I never will. Really nice people they were, if a bit focused on their "comfort objects." So I like kneaded erasers. I suppose it's not all that different. (shrugging my shoulders)
    At that point, all sounds including the upset purse talk from the table for two with seven faded into an indiscernable rumble as usual. My salad arrived, and it was most gratifying.
  I learned from this experience that purses are important to many people, that tables for one suit three in a pinch, and that I need to order extra salad dressing
tina jones