The Woman Strong

Specifically Lookin’ Back

It’s interesting to re-read a book and relate to it in an entirely different, perhaps deeper, way.  I know the book hasn’t changed, but I have, and somehow, that makes the book so much better.  My most recent re-read is Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now.  The author is more eloquent and enlightened than me, and I’m sure much smarter and more schooled.  However, that doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything he has to say, right?  His sentence stopped me; I checked if I caught it correctly the first time: “I have little use for the past and rarely think about it.”  I’ve heard Abraham Hicks speak about avoiding a mind-traipse into past memories because it’s a slippery slope and it’s a path that slows you down on getting where you want to go.  But still, I must argue that when visiting the past in deliberate, controlled manners, the right memories can be fun, heartwarming and beneficial.

Recently, in an effort to focus on the present and give my Monkey Mind a break, I’ve rekindled a love for working jigsaw puzzles.  (Ironically, unlike a book, I won’t rework a puzzle.)  My most recent puzzle purchase is a scene of a Day of the Dead celebration in Mexico City, created by the company Dowdle Folk Art.  The puzzle came with a keychain, a quote from the owner and an information sheet about the different images depicted on the puzzle.  It pleased all of my Tattooed Nerd vibes.  His quote: “My goal is to tell stories that inspire people to live meaningful and engaged lives.”  And I thought, that’s it!  The past holds some of my favorite stories that are fun to think and talk about!  I have unconsciously blocked out some of my past and certainly have other moments that I don’t want to remember, but the funny & good stuff is worthy of pondering, in my opinion.

I’ve already written about one of the funniest moments I’ve committed to memory, dating back to 1994.  I still cannot think about it without smiling and I have thought about it a lot over the course of almost 30 years.  The following year, I got to experience another unforgettable moment at a UIndy party.  This gathering was at Lake Shore, and trust me, there was no lake or shore as it was located on the southside of Indianapolis.  Lake Shore was a nearby clubhouse people often rented out for showers, birthday parties and the occasional post-football-game off-campus college party.  

Surprisingly, at some point during the night, I had taken a break from the dance floor.  I was rehydrating with water while sitting on a couch, chit-chatting.  I believe the song playing was Kris Kross’ Jump.  If that wasn’t the song, I at least know, for sure, that the song playing had a beat that made everyone enthusiastically jump up and down with both feet at the same time.  This resulted in the floor above and in front of me breaking.  It was more like a horizontal, incline-shaped hole than the piano in the pic, but still… 

Human legs turned into cartoon legs treading the air, trying to find a surface for traction.  It was a small fall for the heap of college students that soon started untangling their limbs and standing.  I would guess that Lake Shore had basic, 8 foot ceilings, and as soon as people started landing, their bodies cushioned the fall for the others.  I don’t remember anyone getting hurt.  I do remember leaving as quickly as possible, wondering if my eyes had actually seen what I thought they just saw. 

I promise no hallucinogens were involved that night, at least not on my behalf.  Being so startled and in quick-exit mode, I’ve never been able to recall who was talking with me on the couch.  I do remember Lake Shore being closed for renovations for a good, long while.

This next memory is as recent as the past decade.  From time to time, I ask a few of the others that were there if it really happened, just to make sure it wasn’t a movie or a dream.  I was in Iowa at the end of a long day of farmer’s markets, shopping, eating and walking around a new-to-me city.  Our group decided to finish the night in a sports bar.  I don’t remember if there was a game on or anything special about the night.  What’s hard to forget about the night is the fight that broke out between a group of Asian men.  There was yelling and anger and bodies jostling around.  I think I grabbed my drink and purse and tried to shrink away from the area to avoid getting pulled into the energy.  

These men next to us were, indeed, Kung fu fighting.  I’m pretty sure we all had cell phones on us, but maybe they were all out of battery, or maybe we were too surprised to take our phones out, or maybe someone captured it and a video exists out there.  How fabulous would it be on one glorious day to get to relive this entertainment?  Cops came, people were removed and our group certainly had something to talk about for the rest of the night.  

If you had ever asked me what I’d expect to see in Iowa, my answer would have been corn and other vegetable growth, maybe cows, lots of recycling…but never, ever, would I have guessed an Asian Kung fu fight in a bar.  It would be a shame to let this memory fade.  It’s odd and deserves to be honored with remembrance and sharing.

To bring this post to a close, I will share one last past moment that happened merely 4 months ago.  It was Cinco de Mayo and tequila was somewhat involved.  After a delicious Mexican lunch, a few of us decided to extend the day in my backyard.  My angel dog, Zoey, who’s worst habit is trying to french kiss all humans, was enjoying the afternoon with us as well.  Zoey was frolicking and fetching.  And then, in slow motion, I watched my precious girl decide that Cinco de Mayo isn’t for pussy games.  All on her own, she decided to switch up a friendly game with her dad to tackle football.  My sweet dog trucked through the legs of my 200+ pound, 6+ foot tall, guapo amigo.  She couldn’t have been more deliberate or swift with her take out.  The human was on his hip on the ground but somehow had still managed to keep his drink vertical.  The games were over for the day and Zoey seemed happy with her Poco Loco.  I couldn’t believe what my eyes had just witnessed but I have one other compadre that was there to share the view.

Having shared these stories in writing, I’m beginning to see my trend in a love for slap-stick humor.  What can I say?  I’m related to my dad.  Of course I have other memories that evoke other emotions.  Finding out I was pregnant and birthing my three children are days set in stone in my noggin.  There are proud and touching moments all throughout the last near-50 years that make me feel good when I reflect upon them.  Unlike Eckhart Tolle, I have a use for the past – I like to reminisce to feel happy and connect with others, like you.

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