Springtime in the Rockies
“Everything I need flows through me,” a friend told me this morning
“Everything I need flows through me,” a friend told me early this morning.
We were on FaceTime, catching up with our lives in Denver and Boston. He said he was trying out that affirmation after watching a documentary about self-help celebrity Tony Robbins. I told him I liked it a lot.
I had heard of Robbins but had never read any of his books or seen him in person or on TV. His brand of positive-thinking bombast is not my cup of tea, actually. But the idea of what I need flowing through me resonated and gave me a lift all day.
“It’s sort of like just-in-time inventory management of your spiritual life,” I told me friend. What you need shows up when you need it. We both have MBAs and know how to talk like that.
After FaceTime, I headed to a meeting on the 15L bus and arrived early enough for a slow walk down York Street.
At Colfax and York I passed the small community of homeless folks who have taken over the outside of an abandoned fast-food store. By the colors, I think it was a Kentucky Fried Chicken. Now it’s a good place for sleeping bags and shopping carts filled with personal effects.
A couple of the guys who spent the night there were awake as I passed this morning. They were sharing a large bottle with amber liquid in it. Another person was still asleep next to the KFC’s turned-off gas meter. He or she was completely covered up by blankets, so I took a photo that preserves their privacy.
It’s not an easy sight, that. Denver has been a pioneer in addressing the problem of homelessness. When I traveled to Portland, Oregon, this week for a meeting, it seemed as if there were more people living on the streets there than in Denver.
Further down York Street, I spotted some purple flowers that, unlike my grandsons, seemed to be hoping I would take their picture. I snapped a few shots with my iPhone and posted one at Instagram.
Friday is always the busiest day of my week, because that’s when I upload a new episode of The Kindle Chronicles. What I need on a Friday is focus, so I imagined focus flowing through me all day. I stayed away from Twitter and news sites until noon. I borrowed a Denver B-cycle and rode it to a Dazbog coffee shop in Cherry Creek to work on the script.
Sometimes my creative process on Friday looks more like procrastination than anything remotely resembling focus. That usually means the show doesn’t hit the nets till midnight or later. Tonight, I’m happy to report, it was done by 9:30.
I enjoy listening to most of the episodes of my show, but this one, Number 454, was a special treat.
That’s because my interview guest was a dear friend and fantastic painter and reader, Kes Woodward. Kes and I attended the same meeting in Portland this week, which gave us a chance to go for a long walk and, after the meeting, to record a 25-minute conversation for the podcast. He lives in Fairbanks, Alaska, so our paths don’t cross that often.
As I prepare to wind down for sleep, I appreciate all that flowed through me today. It reminds me of what is usually referred to as The Prayer of St. Francis, even though it was probably written in France no earlier than 1913.
The historical discrepancy doesn’t bother me, because I’m sure the real St. Francis would have approved this prayer. It begins, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”
Music flows through an instrument, which helps me to imagine what I need flowing through me — focus and peace, kindness and patience. It’s possible, of course, to block the flow with worry, pushy agendas, self-doubt, and all the other mind-trolls that show up uninvited, especially in the middle of the night.
Everything I needed flowed through me today, just like my friend’s affirmation suggested.
It’s 65 degrees at 10:30 p.m., so it might not be a terrible night for sleeping outside at the KFC store on York Street. I will be inside with my wife and our Yorkie Claire, who are already asleep.
It’s a mystery, what flows and how come it touches us in such different ways.
It’s springtime, with Easter coming. Peace.
