Shel and Me

There is a lot of intelligence to Shel Silverstein's writings. He would have been fun to have coffee with and perhaps discuss Robert Frost or maybe Shel Silverstein. His humorous view of the mundane to the extraordinary has always intrigued me.

I have often identified with the circle in 'The Missing Piece', bumping along in the rhythm of my lack, looking for completion while happily interacting with everything I encounter. But lately I've seen myself more as the wedge- a curiosity, immobile, waiting on my circle to show up and carry me off to the ultimate adventure. But let's face it, any adventure at my age is a big deal.

I wait in the dirt with an errant tuft of grass and a few rocks and whatever else has been dropped there- maybe a shiny coin or two, watching others pass by with their adventures in tow, while I come to conclusions and compose my own version of their stories within my solitude. Every now and again someone stumbles over me and may pick me up to examine me for a moment before tossing me aside to the grass, rocks and whatever else has been dropped there.

And sometimes, when the day and stars are just right, there comes into my space that wheel with a wedge shaped void. I am picked up and slapped into place and carried off on a hilarious, whirlwind adventure. It's always amazing; it's never quite what I expected or envisioned in the stories within my solitude.

And regardless of the time or intricacies of the trip, I find one day that I've been extracted and laid aside: I added a little too much to the equation. Perhaps for them, the completeness was overbearing, precluding much that they had come to expect and enjoy within their lack. Or perhaps it was just time to get back to the real world.

And so, I wait in the dirt with an errant tuft of grass and a few rocks and whatever else has been dropped there, maybe a shiny coin or two, watching others pass by with their adventures in tow, while I come to conclusions and compose my own version of their stories within my solitude. While I miss the purpose and interaction, I find there are worse ways to live life. Perhaps the mundane and extraordinary are not quite what they seem and yet the fun, overwhelming, hilarious memories draw me and I wait and hope among the mundane for my next chance for adventure. w