November

From the comfort of his easy chair Jim watched as I traipsed up and down the stairs, placing luscious-colored leaves and flowers, scarecrows and pumpkins, into display position on the front porch and around the living room and dining room.

After my third trip he said, "honey, what are you doing?" I replied, "it’s November."

He sat for a minute, then said, "You're kidding. Where has the time gone?"

He'd been futzing around with the DVD player, mumbling about how it's gone bad. He'd already gotten out the cleaner disk, and spent a few minutes on that. But he was still grumbling about our DVD player being shot, not worth a bladabladablady.

I asked if he had tried to play that particular DVD in the bedroom. He glared at me, said, "Are you trying to tell me my diagnostic skills are lacking?" I didn't offer my opinion that perhaps a DVD he brought back from Iraq might not have been manufactured with American quality standards. I just said, “no, but if the DVD won't play in the bedroom, too, then we're sure of the nature of the problem.

As he went off to the bedroom I heard him say, sotto voce, "I KNOW the nature of the problem."

An hour later, I went into the bedroom. He was asleep. The DVD player was off. The DVD was in the trashcan next to the bed. I didn't hear another word about the player. Which, by the way, worked just fine the rest of the day. I will look for another copy of the DVD this morning at wally world, and if it's not there, will order one online.

But this morning, during my mediation, I realized that there was more to the incident than the surface issues of DVDs and players. In life there's usually more than one way to look at almost everything. But sometimes I jump to conclusions. The actual circumstance doesn't matter. I have something so deep in my head that another opinion makes no sense to me and I disregard it automatically because it's not MY opinion.

Perhaps I'm so bull-headed that I simply will pay no attention to what someone else thinks. While rational thinking says there MAY BE another way of looking at it I'm so dead set that it's my way or the gunny highway that I'm unwilling to even listen to another option.

Sometimes I listen but I do not hear. I allow the cacophony of worldly cares to drown out the whisper of what really matters. And so today I will listen to the crows, but also hear the sparrows.