When I think about the world and how I see things, I just usually muster up a wallop of compassion for others when they don’t see things the way I do… and similarly I swallow a giant dose of self forgiveness when I don’t see things the way they do. If we are all different, how is it possible for us all to see the same thing in the same way all the time?

A couple of days ago, I had the vision of a Messiah. I tried to figure out what I did or didn’t do to gain this insight. Was it my gluten-free rice puffs with organic blueberries and almond milk that I had for breakfast? Was it the fact I had no lunch that day? Or perhaps it was the copy writing exercise I did, sitting behind the desk ultra comfortably, with my belt unbuckled and my pants unzipped while I chuckled to myself about all the puns that could be made if a grocery store owner made a speech.

On this day, I was early for a meeting with a huge newspaper client and with the extra time I stopped into a pizza place to buy a Pellegrino Sparkling Water and then went next door to a Sign Maker to offer them one of my many creative services. As I walked into the Sign Store, a homeless man followed me in. He had a silver tongue speaking out of a dirty mouth. He struggled in the threshold of this sign store trying to convince me and the owners of the store that he had some valuable information that we needed and would share with us if we would just give him some money. His language and delivery of urging content, was precise and on point, but his presentation was that of homeless man… and he smelled bad. We all said no thank you and he left the store. I turned back to the owners of the store and continued my dressed up business pitch on why those same people should hire me for the information I know; they did not throw me out of their store.

Later that day, it was time for my meeting up the street from the pizza place and the sign store at a huge Newspaper Publisher. I didn’t feel any different till the gold started coming out of my well shaved and minty fresh mouth. I left my body and stood above myself and watch myself, as the others marveled at my almost, perfect presentation. I silently applauded myself in my disassociated vision. This is just an example of what it looked like as my hair is not curly.

At the end of this presentation on letting me help this company by improving how their website looks and works…  I improvised and tossed in the story about the homeless person who tried to sell me and the sign company something. I told the newspaper folks that with the current website they had, they were like that homeless person. They might be saying the right things to the right people, but because the appearance of their website was disheveled, no one was listening. I wish I could have recorded myself that day, as perfect days when everything lines up and every word that comes out of your mouth is golden… are few and far between. Naturally this perfect day ended when hell opened up and a giant monster crawled out and decided to display itself on my bedroom wall, up by the ceiling, as me and my dog Page were just about to go to sleep.

Feeling the surge of the universe behind me, I deftly grabbed a kitchen stool and an umbrella, then went into my closet and got one of my old loafers. I climbed up on top of the stool, slid the umbrella into the shoe, crafting a massive whacking device; my weapon of mass destruction. I could hear Page screaming in the background, “kill it, kill it!” As I drew back and attempted to smack it, it jumped off the wall at me and I leaped back, luckily, the bed was behind me. The monster bug crawled under the TV stand. I took the shoe off my rolled up umbrella and got down on all fours and attempted to stab the Volkswagon Sized bug with my umbrella spear. Page hid behind me. Her front paws were up on my butt as she hid her face with every brave lance I made with my rain protection device now turned deadly.

That night, Page and I slept with the lights on. We couldn’t find the bug and just didn’t want it crawling into our mouths while we slept.

The next day, everything was back to normal, I was no longer the fearless bug soldier nor was I the golden guy with the gift of gab. I had lost my godlike insight and the super power to witness divine coincidence. I returned to that same strange place of “gee, I hope I see everything the same way others do today.”

On this day, I had an opportunity to write creative copy for a huge group of private hospitals. Naturally as is their way, they had to give me a physical to do this. I didn’t understand it, but I rarely understand what’s happening to me on any given day. I kept asking why I needed to be checked for TB just to write copy. They kept saying, “…it’s just procedure sir.” Naturally, I imagined that they were aliens from another planet, using the employment opportunities as a means to probe us earthlings. I passed the physical with flying colors, till they brought out the color blind test.

I could barely see the two six’s in the bottom circles, but couldn’t see anything in the two circles above. This episode triggered a flurry of phone calls, a series of whispering meetings and an onslaught of frenzied notes scribbled on my application. I couldn’t imagine under what colorful conditions they would have me spinning my yarns. I began to think of myself with the same prowess as a fighter jet pilot, needing to recognize minute measurements across dozens of dials in various colors while flying at light speed and breaking the sound barrier. Then I snapped back to the present as the nurse said, “We want to give you another test.”

She laid out a line of colored paper clips in front of me. And she said, “we don’t normally do this, but being able to distinguish color is one of the main requirements for this project. Please pick up the red paper clip…” Which I did while doing my best to keep a straight face. “Now, please pick up the yellow paper clip.” Which I did as well with great pride. “Okay, now, don’t rush, but please pick up the blue paper clip.” So for dramatic purposes, I slowly reached for the green paper clip and looked like I was about to pick it up. I glanced over at the nurse as she winced with panic and a bead of sweat popped out of her temple like a safe cracker on the job. But then I triumphantly grabbed the blue clip and handed it to her. I was dying to pant, stick my tongue out and wag my tail in the hopes of a cookie… but this urge too I controlled.

Today is another day. I ate the rice crisps again with the organic blueberries and the almond milk… with the hope of entering the world being able to make the blind see. I don’t know what’s waiting for me out there, I don’t know what kind of unrequested intrusions will jump in my path or how someone else will make me a part of their plan, because I might not have a plan of my own.

I think I will create today as a magic day, with me being open to all the good that is to come to me now. May it be full of delight and wonderful surprises and may I be at full strength to deal with all the unpleasant realities that might pop up.

5 thoughts on “BLUE PAPERCLIPS

  1. Good post, Dad! So, clearly the giant bug died since you took a picture of it? That thing was so huge that I screamed in discust at my desk 🙂

  2. This is great…thanks for the treat with my morning cuppa.
    Postscript: I saw three number sixes right away…had to squint for the upper right grayscale image but methinks my imagination is forming the numeric. I did see the blue paperclip, but admit to being drawn to the purple one instead.

      • Jeez-la-weez…a 666 subliminal message was no where on my radar. Guess my brain patterns don’t travel in that direction. Rest assured: no subliminal message intended, although I am wondering now if one was meant for me. Yikes!

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