Sliding Along

Photo: mbc.net

In the 1998 movie Sliding Doors, the life path of the lead character (played by Gwyneth Paltrow) is determined by her success or failure in slipping through the closing doors of a train.  In this tiny life moment, sharply different futures are defined for her and those around her.  If she makes the train, she arrives home early to find a cheating boyfriend and begin a life alone.  If she misses the train, well, she never knows about his infidelity and experiences a very different future.

Now what?
Photo: Pajiba.com

The movie is described as a comedy-drama (just like my life) and makes the point that our futures are sometimes determined not by the big decisions that we agonize over, but those little daily choices we make.

Choice or Darwinism?
Phot: Chowlowgolf.com

I’m not saying that big decisions, like choosing to stand under a tree during a lightening storm won’t have consequences.  But direct consequences (glowing in the dark? developing super powers? death?) can be predicted in circumstances like that.  How about your decision to wear red lipstick, choose to make a left instead of a right, or stop for a cup of coffee on your way to work? Could those little choices change the course of your life?

How did fate bring them together?
Photo: Starangefunkidz.com

I met my husband because I covered another worker’s bathroom break at a trade show booth.  I wasn’t supposed to be at the booth, or even at the show, watching him and his three partners make their way down the center of the busy aisle.  The coalescence of my presence in the hall, my co-worker’s bladder, my early morning choice of a bright red blouse and the serendipitous presence of the boys sealed my fate.

Not an actual historic photo.
Photo: iCheezburger.com

It’s not just relationships, of course.  We found our house on a spontaneous drive to the beach.  Escaping the heavy beach traffic we detoured down a rural road, hoping that it would go somewhere.  Turns out it went straight to our new home.  We bought it that same day, over twenty years ago. Now I own a tractor. Didn’t see that one coming.

Sigh.
Photo: Icity-data.com

I watched “Sliding Doors” many years ago, and let me tell you, I was paralyzed with inaction after seeing it.  It still leaps to my mind sometimes, when I make decisions about which route to take, or where to vacation.  Only letting go and embracing the lovely interplay between fate and freedom unfreezes me.  Don’t be scared—watch the movie—you’ll appreciate the minor moments of your life in a whole new way.

You might need one of these after this movie.
Photo: Scientificamerican.com

Have any small decisions made big differences in your life?  

Walk the Walk

My daughter swims.  Oh, both my daughters swim; they learned to swim as they learned to walk.  It’s fun for me, a landlubber who sometimes thrashed her way out to the raft at Farmer Jim’s swimming hole to see the girls glide through the water so effortlessly.  It’s not that much fun though, to get up at 5am to drive my younger daughter to summer swim practice on the campus of UC Santa Cruz by 6am.

I am not a morning person.
Art:  Sodahead.com

Three times a week this summer that is exactly what I do.  And as my young athlete jumps out of the car and rushes to the pool I’m left standing in the foggy hills of Santa Cruz holding a cup of cold coffee and my car keys. 

Now what?

 I was tickled when another mother agreed to take a walk last week while our kids were swimming.  I thought she looked fit, and I exercise fairly often, so I thought we would have a nice brisk walk through the wide paved roads of the university campus, which wind their way across 2000 beautiful acres overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

My idea of a walk.
Photo:www.Glenlake.org

“Oh look, there’s a path,” she cried as we stepped out of the parking lot.  I was just formulating my observations about the steepness and narrowness of the route as she stepped onto it, already moving vigorously up what seemed to be an endless series of switchbacks and hills.  Soon I was gasping too hard to protest, and saved my strength to pull myself up the trail.  How could the laws of physics be suspended, I wondered, so that we walk up, up, up?  Where was the down?

Her idea of a walk.
Photo:Tsittours.com

I wasn’t until an hour later that we realized we were lost.  Luckily my walking partner was as good with her iPhone as she was at striding uphill.  I suggested (begged) that she call a cab with the iPhone, but she pulled up a map instead, and set out again, determined to be at the car by the end of swim practice. 

UCSC and environs.
Photo:Aquafornia.com

She did stop once, when a deer stepped out into our path. “How beautiful” she sighed, barely winded.  “Maybe it’s an evil deer” I wheezed spitefully.  “They can be very mean you know. “  She laughed, but slowed her approach a bit.

Teeming with dangerous animals.
Photo: UCSC

There's one now.
Photo: UCSC

By the time she was done with me I was staggering more than walking.  And at the afternoon swim practice that day?  I guess I should have gone to the gym down the street.  But thinking about my new walking partner and the hills waiting for me in Santa Cruz the next morning, I rested instead, choosing my challenges with care.

Enough to wake you right up.

Nun of your concern

What's a picture like this doing on a nice Jewish girl's blog?  Well, I stumbled upon this 17th Century Nun's Prayer, and thought that people of all faiths (or no faith) might enjoy it.  So, instead of writing for you this week, I'm posting the words of this wonderful, and slightly wicked nun.

Painting: Henrietta Browne

Lord.

Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will
someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every
subject and every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out
everybody's affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.
With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but thou
knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless detail: give me wings to get to
the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of
rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace
to enjoy the tales of other's pain but help me to endure them with patience. I
dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening
cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me
the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so
hard to live with -- but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the
devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents
in unexpected people. And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.

Amen.