Sunday Musings - Showing Up In One Another's Stories
Walking Each Other Home
My daughter, Amelia, tells the most incredible stories. She is the kind of person that sees events unfold as they do in the real world, in small illumined moments, that sometimes connect to a sweep of history, and always framed by her wicked wonderful sense of humor. When she first moved to Chicago she worked as a docent at the Chicago Museum of Science and Industry. This museum is a very popular school field trip destination and on weekends it is often filled with families with small children. This is a story she told me—and I will retell to you,—which is what a good story is, the teller and the told, the thread that keeps spooling out from ear to ear, heart to heart.
Anyway…
One wintery weekend Amelia was chatting with a museum security guard, a line backer sized man with a deep, kind voice. While they were talking they both noticed little boy wandering in the atrium looking very distressed and most likely had gotten separated from his mother. This was a fairly regular occurrence at the museum with so many dazzled children visiting every day, and because of this the museum had put in put smart and efficient protocols in place to quickly reunite worried parents with their lost children. Amelia and the guard both approached the child and asked his name and if he might be lost. The poor little guy was on the verge of tears and breathing hard. With wide eyes and trembling lip he launched into his description of what was happening, punctuated by little intakes of hiccuping breaths,
“I can’t *breath* find my mother *breath* “gasp” I’ve looked and looked “breath” everywhere "* breath* * breath* I’m lost and I “breath” don’t know where to go and, and, and *breath* and I’m LIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTLLLLLLE .
Amelia quickly got down on one knee and told the little boy it was alright and he was alright and they would make announcement right away over the museum intercom to let his mother know exactly where he was so she could come get him. The guard looked down kindly, offered his big hand and said in his deep sonorous voice, “Don’t worry little dude, we’ll find your mom.” The boy was not read yet to smile, but he nodded and sighed with his whole body, his shoulders sagging with relief. Then his small hand shot up to take the much larger hand of the guard. The happy ending was that Amelia radioed the front desk and found that the worried mother was already there and the two were quickly reunited with hugs and tears and the obligatory parental admonishment to always stay close in busy places, followed by another hug and they both set off to see the life size dinosaur statue, or the electricity exhibit or the incubator where the baby chicks are always being born.
I think what I liked about the story, and how Amelia told it to me, was her description of this dearness of this little guy and his breathless articulation of feeling very little in a big and complicated world. I have to admit there have been times in my own life when I’ve felt lost or bewildered, not sure which way to turn. In that small boy’s story, I recognized that occasionally we all feel a bit at loose ends, like we are just one small person in a very big and complicated world. I loved how someone showed up at that tender moment to offer a much needed hand. Don’t worry little dude…its gonna be alright, there is help and safety, right here and close by.
We do this for one another, we show up in one another’s stories. Sometimes we are the lost, sometimes we are the found. Sometimes we are the hand that reaches out and sometimes we are the hand that reaches back. Sometimes we reunite in tears and hugs and sometimes we get to go see the baby chicks being born. We are the teller and the told, part of one another’s story and as Ram Das wrote, '“We are walking each other home.”
Question- what does this story bring up for you? Have you reached out a hand, or taken the hand of another? What does the idea of walking one another home mean for you?
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Summer & Fall Tour Schedule
Here are few of my upcoming shows and workshops this summer and fall. To get full details visit my website tour page at www.carrienewcomer.com//tour
I’ll be performing with the amazing Gary Walters, select shows with Allie Summers & The Gathering of Spirits String Quartet!
Note: A correction from my last newsletter. My concert at Wabash College is on September 27, 2023!
What I’m Grooving On
On my last recording, Until Now, you heard the wonderful voice of my friend, Kayla Behforouz on the song, I Will Sing A New Song. Kayla is a wonderful new songwriter and vocalist in her own right. She’s just released her first single on Spotify entitled “Sing”. I hope you’ll check it out. I love it!
Moments in Photos
Walking in the woods the other day….as the sun was heading toward the horizon, there was a moment when passed through the canopy just so, creating a glowing spotlight on a couple of trees. Had I not glance up at just that time, I would have missed it. We do not live days we live moments, and ah it was nice to catch this one.
For me, walking each other home means being with another person during difficult times. Many times, the person reaching out the hand doesn't have to say much. But the person taking the hand knows you are there, that they are not alone. That they have a companion to help them to a safer place. Reading these responses really shows the impact of storytelling. So many people have identified with the boy who is lost and with the museum guard and your daughter. It's quite powerful.
I love this! When you mention that we are all walking each other home, I think about our neighborhood—as neighbors who are getting older, and may have said goodbye to their life partners of many years, those of us who can do the little things that make life easier. We bring in the trash can, walk the paper up to the door, shovel the snow, pop in for a visit, or bring some food by—just as they have often done for others along the way. We are all in need grace at various times times. And we are all able to offer it at various times along the way, as we walk each other home.