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Editor’s Desk: Getting Out In The Corridors Of Life

POSTED July 31, 2024 IN
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Recently a dear circle sister, Rosemary Williams, after a four-point pubic bone fracture that required more than a year of rehabilitation, declared in a prayer that she was ready to rejoin life and requested a playmate to join her. She spoke these words to the mysterious yet responsive universe: “I want a playmate.” (with her permission I’m sharing what she wrote)

Yesterday loneliness surrounded me, sucked me into a space I rarely go. As I sat in that space, I heard a small voice inside saying I want a playmate. Where did that word come from? I don’t remember ever using it in a personal way before.

I stood at the window and said to the great expanse in front of me, if there is anybody, anything out there, I want a playmate. Then, I picked up my keys and walked downstairs to the lobby of my building to check my mailbox. The elevator door opened on the first floor, and standing there was a woman artist I knew. I said,” I am so happy to see you. I’m looking for a playmate.” She responded, “Oh! Ok. What do you want to do?”

I said,” I want to go next door, sit at a table by the water, have something to eat with a companion, and enjoy a good conversation.”

Much to my surprise, she replied, “Give me five minutes to take my packages upstairs. I’ll come back down and go with you.”

“How wonderful. I’ll wait.” We went to Port 5, the Naval Veteran’s Club next door, sat and talked at a table by the water for two hours. We agreed we would find other things to do together. “Do you like music? she asked. I said, “Yes, I do.”  “Come with me to an outdoor concert next Sunday if you’d like.”  “Yes, I’d love to.” Now I have a new playmate.

Besides the rapidity of a positive response from the cosmos, the other part of this story that moved me was that Rosemary picked up her keys and walked out her door. She made herself available to rub shoulders with others in the corridors of life.

When I think of corridors, I’m reminded of high school when the bell rings signaling the end of a period and the long, silent, and empty halls are suddenly alive with the cacophony of sounds and a pastiche of teenagers spilling out of classrooms rubbing shoulders in joyful camaraderie. The bell rings and we are free to be with one another, no hall pass is required. That is where the magic happens, plans are made, and creative play is arranged.

I’m reminding myself to give voice to my prayer by speaking the words out loud to the universe and then allowing that mysterious but ever-present energy to answer because I make myself available in the corridors of life.

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