The Adventurer

A kid in the back of an old Chevy truck
Stares out in wonder to a world he calls "Up"
Over the hills and down winding, steep roads
His imagination takes flight and away it goes

Behind sea green eyes blaze a trail of places
With old, ragged cowboys and rodeo clown faces
In towns with odd names that never found it to maps
Where adventure beckons on past the brims of old hats

A kite and a key on a dark, dark, dark night
A first apprentice to the first brothers on the first manned plane flight
Up, up and away in a hot air balloon
Touching down and taking step one onto the moon

One small step for man, a giant leap, there he goes
Balancing the ever growing length of Pinnochio's nose
"Walk the plank!" on a pirate ship of a pirate most feared
That now our young hero has bravely commandeered

Traversing rock after rock through a Hawaiian lava flow
Dodging great boulders and rapids while navigating the Colorado
Whizzing down a mountain on a bike nicknamed "Chance"
Commanding a triumphant victory at the Tour de France

In a wagon headed west down the Oregon trail
Riding shotgun with the Pony Express delivering mail
Miles and miles ridden, but no time to slow down
Because tomorrow the great World's Fair comes to town

A sudden blast from that old Chevy's horn
Brings him back from the place where imagination is born
Back to the bed of that old pickup truck
Back from an 8 second ride on an old bronking buck

The old Chevy truck turns onto a worn out old road
Worn out and tired, the boy is glad to be home
Adventuring all day is a serious undertaking
When one is to become a great adventurer in the making

Laying his head on his pillow, he closes his eyes
Eager for a new adventure surprise
As he drifts into dream town, the day comes to an end
And in the morning the adventure starts all over again

Shoes

Through darkened streets on lamp lit paths
My pulse begins to race
Seven years I've wearily wandered this path
And have yet to see one single face

Not one pair of eyes, nor hair, nor smiles
What they wear I haven't a clue
But I unmistakably recognize character
As I pass by people's shoes

The untied shoes of youngsters
That skip past me without care
To the boots of a construction worker
Working diligently for his fair share

High-heeled stilettos and stylish flats
Pass me by on their way home from here and there
Quickened paces and trudging steps I hear
But look up, I do not dare

I recognize color, pattern and style
Whether worn out or brand new
But to recognize you any other way
I simply cannot do

Looking up is a frightening thought
For I never know who or what I might face
Judgment, ridicule, scorn, or cruelty
As your look tells me I don't belong in this place

So I dart through shadows, blend into walls
Become invisible to those all around
And I concentrate solely on what you wear
On your feet as my eyes meet the ground

The musician on the corner in loafers
Playing his heart out for a few dollars more
To the cop with his black belted boots
Who, for me, kindly holds open a door

To the weary mother of three
Whose white tennis shoes are worn straight through
But she'll gladly work every shift she can get
To keep her kids under a warm, dry roof

Stories crowd these busy streets
As each footstep tells a tale
Of struggle and strife and victory
When the struggling overcomer prevails

Another day, another dark street
Envelopes me safely once again
As I go unnoticed in shadowy silence
Observing quietly from within

I feel the weight of your stressful days
As you work to pay your dues
It's amazing what you can learn about someone
By just looking at their shoes

Dear Lori, circa 1995

Dear Lori of the 1995 variety-

Greetings from 2016. I'm you. A different version of you, but you nonetheless.
As always and often, letters start out kind of awkward. You will be happy to
know that part has not changed. You, well, I, are/is/am still as awkward as ever.
You know what? That's okay. Let me tell you about a few more things that I have
learned along this crazy thing called life.

1). You are still listening to much of the same music now that you did then.
Seriously, music hasn't really gotten much better since the golden era of the '90's
that you love so much. Lots of foul mouthed rappers and singers that need
to put their clothes back on. Play it safe. Stick to the classics. Here are some
helpful tools to navigate the barren wasteland of the 2016 music terrain: Spotify
and iTunes. You will thank me later.

2). Everything is becoming abbreviated and people are slowly losing their
ability to speak or write complete sentences. If someone says "BRB", refrain
from asking what it means. It's a trap. Once you start down the slippery slope of
abbreviated words, it will be a nearly impossible climb back up to the land of decent
grammar. Take the detour around that one.

3). The Internet. We have come a long way from "Oregon Trail" Friday
on the good ole Apple IIe.  You can search for everything anytime,
anyplace on "smartphones".  iPads are flat computers that you can take
anywhere. It helps people stay connected. However, there is still nothing
better than coffee with a friend in person and genuine conversation. Don't trade
in genuine connection for instant gratification. It's a terrible trade. People are
more important, and friendship is worth all of the work you put into it. Yes, you
drink coffee now. You should drink less. Get on that.

4). Relationships are hard. It's still hard now, but you are getting better at it.
Don't be so hard on yourself. You are liked and loved by the people who you
are blessed to call friends. AND......YOU are an aunt....TWICE! A beautiful
niece and a handsome nephew. Love is a struggle still, but the moment you held
those beautiful children as babies for the first time was when true love really
found you. It is also when your super protective instincts kicked in. We are very fond
of these little munchkins and love them immensely.  You are capable of love. Don't sell
yourself short. You are capable of more than you could possibly imagine. I promise you,
all of the stuff that you are about to go through is worth it. Just hang on through it.

5). You will work with kids. Lots of them. They are going to teach you all sorts of
new skills, like patience, conflict resolution, battle strategy, negotiation strategies,
peace treaty negotiations, how to be an effective hostage negotiator and the finer points
of effective public speaking. They will drive you crazy. You will want to hide from them
at times. But when you get a hug from a kid and it's genuine and they tell you that you
are their favorite, it makes it all worth it. You love them all. And they love you in their
own way. And you would protect them with your life.  You are a kid person. Get used to it.

6). Single? Yes. Content there? Finally. Yes. It's okay. Not everyone is going to find someone.
AND THAT IS OKAY. Don't beat yourself up over it. I already know that you do, but see it
as a blessing. God is prepping you for something awesome. Our lives are not defined by
being married or having kids or the house with the white picket fence. You, my dear one, are defined
by God and God alone. What you think of yourself should be in direct correlation with who God
created you to be. YOU ARE NOT A FAILURE. God has a good plan. Trust Him. He knows
what He is doing.

7). There is no Clearly Canadian here. Drink all you can before it's gone.

8). Uggs + leggings do not = an outfit. You suck at math, but this is math you can get
behind. Trust me.

Enjoy the ride. You will get here soon enough. Take in all of the memories and the people
and the little things that make you who you are. Be creative. Write down everything.
Be brave and bold. You got this. I'm pulling for you.

Sincerely-
Lori, 2016

A Tree Called "Belong"

Just before sunset on a long forgotten gravel road, I caught a twinkle
of something out of the corner of my eye.

I squinted in the direction of the sinking sun and beheld the outline
of a mighty tree on a high hill.

In all of my years walking down this lonely country road, I could
not remember ever seeing this tree before.

As my gaze rested on the distant tree,  my feet began to follow what could
only be described as a.....pull.  I was mesmerized.  My steps somehow found a path
 I had not yet discovered  that led to this mighty tree on a hill.

Before I knew it, I was at the base of the massive tree.  It rivaled the mighty trees of
my Minnesota prairie. It stood solitude, proud. Anchored as if life itself
depended upon it.

It was still and peaceful.  Slowly the sun set as if it were being tucked
in. The wind floated on the tall grass surrounding the tree, as if softly singing
it to sleep.

I heard the prairie wind rustle calmly through the leaves and branches, but as
I looked up, and as my eyes adjusted to the dimming light, I realized those
were not leaves at all.

These leaves were made of paper.

I walked slowly around the base of the trunk. Around the back
side in the light of a setting sun, there was a sign that read "Belong".

Strange. A tree in the middle of nowhere with a sign that read "Belong"?

I stood, baffled. Where had the tree come from? Who put it here?
Then, quite startlingly, something fell on my head and landed on
the ground near my feet.

It was paper from the tree. A leaf-shaped paper with something written
on it. "Tommy". A name.  And on the backside of the leaf was one simple word:
Belong.

I sat down by the sign and turned the paper leaf over and over in my hands.

Belong.  The word itself created a tidal wave of emotion that broke over
my anxious heart.  I hadn't felt like I  really belonged anywhere for years.
Sure, I had existed. I worked. I did the same day to day things on a
day to day basis, but it never made me feel like I fit. Like I was a part of it.
Like I belonged.

I turned that word over and over in my mind as I leaned against the tree.

The tree. Nothing rational explained this tree. Or the paper leaf. Or why I was
sitting here at the end of an unfamiliar path to an otherwise nonexistent tree.

The horizon turned slowly into the color of night as I stood to leave the tree.
As I stood,  I lost my balance and used the sign to steady myself. It was only then
that I noticed that this sign said more than just "belong":

"Greetings weary traveler on this road called life.
I am glad you found this place.
There are a million different reasons why people end up here,
but the end result is always the same.
Everyone needs somewhere to belong.

You have questions. Good. You should.
We all seem to have the same questions.
Life questions. Why questions. How questions.
And the most important question:
Where do I fit in and do I fit in at all?

Child, you do. You belong for a million different reasons
in a million different ways that matter greatly.
You have something deep inside that only you can contribute.
That, dear one, makes you unique. Special.
It makes you you.

You have found a place of rest and peace.
This tree has seen many people.
It has been a strong support for those weathering storms.
An old friend to those in the beauty of their twilight years.
A junction for the lost and lonely.
A common bond for all who don't feel that they belong.

Much as you do now. But you have a great deal in common.
You and the many names on this tree.
The weathered travelers, the lonely hearts.
You all have stories to share. Here. At this spot.
You are woven together into a tapestry that binds you together.

Away from the hustle and bustle of a life you settled for.
Now is the time to dream out loud.
Have the courage to dream bigger, live louder, be excited.
You were created to bring color and life into this world.
I should know. I made you that way.

You are mine. You belong."

I read those words again through blurred vision. I belong.
I belong.

I took the leaf in my hands and placed it back on a branch,
taking great care to be gentle. I didn't know what Tommy's dreams
were, or even who he was.  But at some point, he found this tree
as I did. He has a story. He belongs.

And so did I.

Paper Castles

I stored my dreams in paper castles
They lay like rags upon the floors
Some stacked neatly in the corners
Others hiding silently behind the doors

I stored them there many years ago
Thinking I'd revisit them soon enough
But years and years have whisked slowly by
And those dreams now hide beneath dusty stuff

Beneath "realistic" goals and "attainable" work
Beneath "maybe, should of, could of"
Beneath disguises and masks and "tried too hard"
Beneath "just settling" and "almost would of"

Through layers of failed opportunities
And dusty piles of doubts and dead ends
Just beneath the surface of "you're not qualified"
I think these dreams could rise again

A Phoenix among the ashes
Of these brittle, paper walls
The dreams that once made these castles strong
And roamed freely through these halls

I watch those paper castles with cautious curiosity
They sway and bend as my mind drifts back
The familiar winds of dreams and ideas forgotten
Shake the walls and beckon me back

The paper castles are now falling
Tumbling and swirling on the breeze
Laying bare those dreams in paper castles
Dust them off, clean them up, and proceed