Night Vision

They were three, each in their own world but sharing one thing in common. One was a sailor on night watch, peering into the blackness and barely able to discern the line between the horizon and sky. One a hunter who stumbled his way into the depth of the night woods hoping to greet day and his quarry for the season at sunrise. And finally, the third, a chronically sleep deprived romantic. She turned her eyes skyward not to find the familiar but to embrace the uncommon.

The night, moonless. Colors were extinct having lost the battle at evening dusk to the deepening shades of grey. Pinpoints of light as are the stars gave orientation to up but little more for the senses. Evolution had given their six eyes the gift of seeing color, now useless in the darkness. But their species had for untold primeval generations learned a trick, look slightly to the side and the eye may see what is invisible if looked upon directly.

Each shifted their gaze to make out the otherwise invisible. The mariner a hidden hazard to his safe passage, the huntsman his responding to the sound of a snapped twig, and the insomniac to find what might lie deeper in the celestial infinity. Each was rewarded by the “trick” of night vision…

At discharge my surgeon issued restrictions which would bind me for many months to come. No bending, no twisting, and absolutely no lifting. “I know you have been a very active person, but for the next 9 to 12 months you must live a very boring life. Your future long-term mobility and freedom from pain depend on it. I’ve done my part, now it’s your turn.”

Post surgical pain made following his orders easy, for the first week. As that ache subsided, I had to become active in the pursuit of my inactivity. A mind accustomed to the rapid pace of physical activity had to adjust, to fill in the void of idleness with a different awareness, not of things clearly “seen head on”, but of those things usually camouflaged by the “noise” of coming, going and doing. This was an exercise of night vision for the mind.

I wrote last week of the odd circumstances which led to my purchase of an unusual ship’s clock and barometer. I won’t recount that here other than to acknowledge my tongue-in-cheek suggestion that my deceased Mother might have been involved. Idleness and deeper contemplation have caused me to slightly withdraw my tongue from my cheek.

This week in that place between sleep and awake I found myself thinking about an unfortunate email exchange that occurred nearly 2 months ago. There had been silence between us since. At 5 a.m. I reached for my cellphone on the nightstand to again read my contribution to the misunderstanding. On my phone was an email received in my inbox not more than 5 minutes earlier. It was from the other party. Apologies and a welcome exchange followed.

The next day a similar scenario played out. In deep thought I wondered aloud to Christine about a friend I had not heard from since before Summer. I had barely finished my thought to her when, a “ding” announced the receipt of a text message… from my friend suggesting we get together for lunch.

7 years ago in San Juan, Puerto Rico, an innkeeper, Eddie, upon becoming aware of an unusual (fortunate) set of circumstances involving me and Christine, said, “Peter, in life there are no coincidences.” I have held those words close to my heart ever since.

There are things within our experience that are apparent yet remain unexplainable. Magnetism and gravity immediately come to mind. We do not dismiss them as “coincidences”. The three recent personal examples I have mentioned above could easily be relegated to the dustbin of “coincidence”, but they happened, and they were real in my experience. Reflecting on my life, similar events are neither rare nor unusual. Just because they are beyond my understanding does not mean that they deserve to be called “coincidence”.

My purpose in sharing these thoughts is not to convince you that they happen in my life, I know that they do. My intention is to give you pause to reflect and meditate upon your own life. Use your mental “night vision” to look slightly to the side and avoid the glare of everyday life. Look instead at what that glare may have hidden from you and come to appreciate that life is full of tiny miracles. They have always been there and will always be there. They do their part; it is just up to us to notice them.

Restore in your life the gifts of wonder and awe that were once yours as a child, “…in life there are no coincidences.”

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. Yesterday Christine and I were enjoying the sun and fine weather on the patio of a local coffee shop. She and I shared a “whatever happened to…” moment. I reached for my cell phone and did a quick internet search. Christine saw my eyes grow large. Concerned, she asked what I saw.

31 years ago, I was involved in one of the saddest cases of my legal career. A mother, my client, was gunned down and murdered by her teenage son. This was done at the urging and contrivance of her abusive husband, his father. Both the father and the son were convicted and sentenced for the murder. An 11-year-old daughter was left an orphan. On my cell phone the search revealed a link to a 30-minute podcast about those events. The podcast was produced 3 years ago. After listening to the podcast, I downloaded the transcript. Here is the concluding dialogue:

Marie: …So, the kind-of forgotten person in this story is C___. I don’t feel that her brother and father consider her needs or future at all in their plans.

Sherry: No.

Marie: But after they murdered her mother, C___ was placed with some foster parents. And after the appropriate period of time, she was adopted by those foster parents. And it seems like she finally had the kind of family her mother always dreamt of giving her.

Sherry: That makes me really happy, because I know her mother worked hard to let her have a nice life. I’m just sad that her mother was never able to figure out how to be the one to give that to her.

Marie: Yeah. I wish her mother had survived and was able to be there with her. But C___ grew up, got married, and now she has a little boy of her own. She has kept in touch with that man who so many years ago helped liberate her and her mother from a domestic nightmare, just by listening and taking their stories seriously.

Sherry: Attorney Schloss?

Marie: You’re right!

Sherry: I’m so impressed!

Marie: Yeah. I’m really…I’m proud of him for keeping an eye on this little girl.

Sherry: I am, too.

Marie: So, after her mother was murdered, he stayed in the picture; both as her attorney and her friend.

Sherry: Nice.

Marie: He’s fought several fights on her behalf. And he just kept showing up – clear through her wedding day and beyond.

Sherry: Ohhh.

Marie: Yeah.

Sherry: That gives me chills.

Marie: I think it’s great that she had a paternal figure in her life who was more protective and kind. P___ (the mother) had once voiced her dream to Attorney Schloss. She wanted her daughter to live a life free from violence. And Attorney Schloss has remained in the picture, fighting for C___’s right to do just that.

Shery: I love that.

Marie: Me, too.

(musical interlude)