Bus En Route Entertainment - The Narcoleptic Plumber

I was on the 250 Horseshoe Bay today, which takes about an hour from Downtown Vancouver to final destination. It's a long ride, a lot of starts and stops, but good for clearing the head. On this particular trip, however, having absentmindedly left my iPod at home as well as the book I'm reading right now (I Love the Word Impossible by Anne Kiemel), I had little to entertain myself with, save a pen with no lid and the back of a receipt on which to write - so classy.

I was in a conundrum, yes, but decided to do some people watching to pass the time, avoiding direct eye contact, of course.

For a few minutes, sightings of interest were scarce, so I just allowed myself to eavesdrop on the musings of retirees in wigs and stockings on their daily shopping adventures. But then I saw him -- the narcoleptic plumber.

He was sitting up, tool belt safely secured to waist, long pipe in hand (about a meter from the ground up - not sure why he brought this on the bus), with his head slumped forward, mouth wide open, faaast asleep. I was first curious about the mouth drooping open, wondering if he was going to drool and if I should prepare myself to be grossed out. I decided to put that one on the backburner. I did, however, notice he was ever so slowly stooping further and further forward in slumber towards the pipe he was holding on to and that, come one more bump in the road or fast start, he was going to hit it bang on, and hard.

I then began to question if this situation was one which required some intervention, some level of social benevolence. I chuckled at the thoroughness of my conscience, and after considering all of my options, I concluded there was no comfortable or pithy way of communicating a message to the effect of, "WAKE UP Mr. Wrench, you're going to hit your head on your pipe".

Yeah, that's what I was thinking.

So, I decided to make the most of the situation by granting myself the permission (guilt free) to be entertained by the plumber's plight. (Wow, who knew alliteration would make it into this post?!)

I watched for five minutes, enthralled in a slightly puckish manner, as he inched closer and closer toward the pipe. Then finally, after a red light on 13th Street...

BANG!

Mr. Wrench woke up.

He was jolted out of slumber, confused at what had just transpired, horrified at the little dabble of drool at the side of his mouth, and in pain after hitting his head on an unidentified hard object - the one he happened to be holding on to. It took him a couple of moments to orient himself and put two and two together; I found the whole scenario altogether amusing.

It was over almost before it began, and worth ever second.

This is why I love public transit - it is the stuff of blogs.

Demetri Martin Visual Jokes

One of my absolute favorite comedians. He's just plain dry and bizarre.
"With grapes, you always get another chance..." - love it!

:)

Be kind to this stranger.

I have a friend that I love very much. I was praying for her and some words started spilling out onto a page in my journal that felt very healing, not just for her, but for me. It's funny how God works like that - we are constantly reflecting truth onto each other and back to ourselves.

The words that came were these:

"...Sometimes giving yourself permission to accept NOT knowing who you are enables you to see clearly, with new eyes, to learn about yourself, find out what is really inside you. A season of befriending yourself, leaving the judgement, the criticism
aside, leaving room for a new voice, still and small to be heard. It's a loss
of control and security that eventually leads to a richness of self discovery
and new kinds of joy. Joy you need. Self you need. Be kind to this stranger,
and she will begins to unfold her secrets..."

There is something very powerful about those words. They hit me in that place way, way at down at the bottom of my well.

Permission to accept that you don't know yourself entirely, a sobering sense of having only seen the tip of the iceberg, not allowing that to be a fearful or unsettling realization.

Leaving the judgment and the criticism aside so you can start to receive truth.

Listening to what God is whispering in your ear; being led down new and exhilarating corridors of yourself, seeing doors to rooms you never knew existed, rooms you now have the opportunity to enter.

Creating space for joy and excitement to exist inside you once again.

Being kind to this stranger, even tender, until she feels safe enough to reveal her secrets, to show you more than just your 'potential' and what you will be, but perhaps what you have been all along.

Coming to understand that you were formed, specifically, on purpose - we cannot build, we can only build upon.

Take a deep breath in, fill my lungs, and breathe out.

It feels so much better seeing through this lens.



Amber.

Like Totally Whatever - You Know? by Taylor Mali

The preamble:
My friend, Alec, who is the intern pastor at my church, read this poem on Sunday to coincide with what he was teaching.

I think it's probably one of the most poignant poems I've ever heard in that it articulates with both playfulness and solemnity a very serious problem in our culture - the inability to speak with conviction, to stand behind your own thoughts and ideas, to be A TRUE individual.

Give this a read - it's quite powerful.

Kudos to Taylor Mali for writing it and to Alec for sharing it with all of us.



Totally Like Whatever, You Know?
By Taylor Mali
www.taylormali.com

In case you hadn't noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you're talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you're saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)'s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren't, like, questions? You know?

Declarative sentences - so-called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true
as opposed to other things which were, like, not -
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don't think I'm uncool just because I've noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It's like what I've heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I'm just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?

What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally . . .
I mean absolutely . . . You know?
That we've just gotten to the point where it's just, like . . .
whatever!

And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we've become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!

I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.