Friday, February 17, 2017

Philosophies in the Fog

It is easy to forget that the world exists when sitting on Union Wharf at 7 am...when all that is visible is the fog. The sounds of the morning seem muted, as if even the water caressing the shore knows that this is a time of peace. I hear the call of the gulls, but I can't see them. I think perhaps they are telling me to take a closer look. Not at the world around me, but at the world within. I pay heed and start to think about where my life is right now and where I want my life to be. Right now, as it happens and as I have just recently mentioned, I am on the dock living in the moment.

It is easy to live in the moment when surrounded by a cloud; memories from times of happiness, times of sadness and even times of indifference flow into my mind. This causes a chuckle because those are just memories from last week! Do your thoughts flow like that? Join me in the early morning on the dock someday, and we can compare notes. We don't even need to talk, the sounds of the water and land can be our only conversation. I allow my mind to wander further...Does the rest of the world exist right now? Is it just me and the seagulls overhead? Where do I stop and they begin? From previous experience, I know this answer will become hard to decipher as the fog burns off and the business of living the day is in full swing. But this is what I have learned during my visits to the foggy bay: I don't stop where you begin. Because we are alive, because we are living, we are connected. My interaction with life affects not just myself, but everybody alive today and in the future.

 I pedal by you on the sidewalk, you glance my way and then tell a friend at lunch about the goofy looking guy on the pedal taxi, and that person goes home and tells a spouse about what you saw...The chain keeps going...You liked my top hat, so you buy one similar to it at a store in town, and the money you spent contributes to the success of that business. You created another link in the chain that we are all part of. How strong will this chain be when my time on the dock is over? When I step onto the boat that paddles me through the final foggy morning of my life, will the chain that my children continue to be strong, or will it break under strain? Just like the chain on my pedal taxi, the chain of all of our connections needs to be strong and flexible. When the gears of stress pull, I hope that my contribution to this world and all the links I have built are durable enough to allow others to keep pedaling smoothly.

The fog is slowly lifting. I can hear the soft murmur of other voices on Water Street as the business open their doors and folks begin searching for the perfect cup of coffee or just the right souvenir. I can see there is more to this world than me. I am going to get back on the pedal taxi now, and I hope when you see me pedal by, you will smile and tell your friend over coffee about how we are all connected, building the same chain and pedaling through life together. Hey, the seagulls will appreciate it. 

Grymm Dupp