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Love is the answer and you know that for sure

johnlennon_1974_gruen_webuseonlyThis is my tribute to two war protesters who greatly influenced me: John Lennon and my father. I wrote this piece after an experience I had when I bought one of John Lennon’s pieces of artwork. 

John Lennon (Oct. 9, 1940 – Dec. 8, 1980)
Hollis Perry (March 27, 1932 – April 26, 1999)

My father fought in a war and John Lennon protested a war. And after my father fought in a war, he protested them, too, and healed himself by growing tomatoes, carrots, and onions and giving them to neighbors. John wrote songs and drew pictures to order his thoughts about the chaos of life.  The artist and musician had as much influence on me as the man who was the warrior and the gardener. And in my youth, the warrior gardener took his “Working Class Hero” dollars and bought many of the vinyl albums for the daughter who loved the musician who sang about “Give Peace a Chance.”

I wasn’t prepared for my reaction at the visual reminders of a nation’s youth and later its sorrow when John was killed.  Then, I saw the piece and the tears in my eyes convinced me it should be mine.

The sales woman inquired about my interest and, of course, it came down to a business transaction. Because really that’s what the world is that we live in even though “all you need is love.” I was prepared to pay and asked about options other than the 12-months-same-as-cash advertised in the store. So the petite woman with the beaming smile said she would inquire on my behalf.

She returned and said “yes, it was okay to pay for ½ today and to pay the other ½ when I picked up the piece” on Tuesday.

Until the owner of the Vegas art road show overheard and in front of all of the people in the gallery shouted “NOOOO!” at the saleswoman. And me, the woman with a visceral and automatic reaction to bullies, immediately walked up to the small circle in the middle of the gallery and interjected “you are very rude.” And the 6’2”, 230-pound man said quietly and calmly to me that he was speaking to the petite brunette. And I stood a little taller and said to him that he was speaking to me through her because his answer was about my question and that he was exceedingly rude. And he apologized in a calm manner to me and I redirected him and suggested he apologize to the woman at whom he shouted. He explained his rationale as to why my proposal was not workable. And his reason for his no was not offensive yet his communication of it to the sales lady was which I reiterated for him. And then he replied, “It’s not necessary for me to apologize to her, she works for me.”

And he suddenly walked off and the third person in the small circle inquired if I wanted to pay by credit card. And I told her that I would express my response to her in the same way the gentleman expressed his answer to my question and that was “NOOOO!”

real loveBut I wandered to the front of the store where my tears first began to fall and considered the circumstances of the day I had planned to distract myself from the loss of my father and mother in the springtime. And the petite brunette came up to me and gave me a book of John’s that he had co-written with his son, Sean, as a way to make up for the scene. I apologized to her that she was the subject of such bad behavior and the woman and I hugged.  And after all was said, I decided to buy the piece because “love is the answer and you know that for sure.

 

Copyright: Brenda Henning, 2018

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Find the courage to give up what was lost

keysI misplaced — or lost — my keys, despite my ever-so-good intention to slow down and be careful.

Misplacing keys is common for me. Metaphorically, perhaps I’m afraid of unlocking closed doors to find only skeletons are on the other side. Practically, misplacing my keys causes loss of time and increased distress and anxiety. My distress is even greater when I make a commitment to be ever-so-careful of keeping up with my keys. I even made this commitment out loud to a friend this holiday weekend because I had more stress than usual. How did this happen, I ask myself. I was so careful. I PAID ATTENTION to my stress.

Like in the story of Franz Kafka and the lost doll, I console myself with his sentiment of “everything you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end love will return in a different form.”

love and lossWhen I’ve lost keys, love did return to me in a different form — it came through as Grace. Sheepishly, I admit my fallibility of losing a tool which helps me be productive. I’ve reported to two employers my carelessness with their property. Each time, the reaction has been, “by when do you need a new set of keys?”

Whew! No pink slip pushed under the locked door. Instead they understood that people make mistakes and I’m a people.

I have been like the widow in the parable of the lost coin. During Biblical times, married Jewish women wore coins as adornments and to keep intimate track of them. I have worn my keys on lanyards around my neck. Even with this personal connection, the widow lost one of her coins, and I have lost my keys. The widow swept and dusted her home until she found her coin. I retraced my steps and, oftentimes, my keys are exactly where I had left them. But not this set.

What about the times when I give up the keys for lost? My limited vision, memory, and mind blinds me from finding what is lost. This is symbolic of how I have had family members lost to various manifestations of illness. They became lost in their illness and so I became blinded by the illness and so lost sight of the person caught up in the illness. In the same way, I become so caught up in finding lost keys, I lose track of myself. Yet, God knows where the lost item or person is. I do not need to count the number of hairs on my head. God already has undertaken this task. God knows where the lost keys are and God sees the person who is lost in their obsession — whether it’s finding keys or finding their whatever.

When something has been irretrievably lost or lost for so long that the time it is taking to find it interferes with getting on with life, then I need to see a different solution. When my keys are replaced, they will be a shinier version. Sometimes healing an illness means shedding old ways, such as bad habits. God wants us to shed what we’ve outgrown.

I haven’t found the keys I lost this week, but I did happen to find the keys I lost a few years ago when I was cleaning out a closet. And when I look at these keys now, I see that like a snake that has outgrown its skin, I no longer need the keys or the doors they unlocked.

snake skin

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