Sometimes you learn, or relearn, the greatest truths from the most unusual places. This has been such a week for me.
On Wednesday I went to an immersive experience with Van Gogh paintings. Before getting to the paintings there were quotes and historical facts about the painter that touched me in rather profound ways. Vincent suffered from mental illness. He was insecure. He struggled to find his place in the world. He made mistakes and felt they defined his life instead of refined his life. He was, in essence, very mortal. How ironic that this man who felt he had little to nothing to offer the world left such a legacy of beauty. His portraits of ordinary people, because he couldn’t afford professional models, give a glimpse into the lives of those who struggle. His kind portrayal of those whom others would caricature is a testament to his sympathetic soul. His paintings of landscapes give a feeling of peace. His paintings of sunflowers bring joy to many hearts. His paintings of typical buildings in typical small towns elicits a real feeling of community. This man, who felt so flawed and so useless, gave a gift to the world that cannot be forgotten. How wonderful that this man, who lived such a humble existence, could leave these incomparable works of art to bless all of us.
On Friday I had a chance to learn some other lessons as I flew out to visit my daughter in Cleveland.
My seat mate on the flight was a young man wearing a dark hoodie with the hood on his head and lowered over the top of his face (the bottom part of his face was covered by the mandatory face mask). To be honest, he didn’t seem like someone I’d be super comfortable striking up a conversation with. I knew, without our having had any communication that we had nothing in common. I settled in, however, and asked the obligatory question about his intended destination, anticipating an equally obligatory brief and conversation-ending response. That’s not what happened. Instead, our obligatory-started conversation lasted the extra hour we spent on the tarmac and the entire three-hour flight. It was wonderful!
Raleigh* (*the name is changed) is a self-described hippie who grew up in a challenging home. His father, who grew up in an Amish home but never joined the faith, was a harsh and difficult narcissist. His mother struggled with serious addiction. There were four children in the family altogether and these siblings are still close, which is great. Raleigh served in the U.S. Marines for several years and was deployed to the Middle East. After leaving the military he and his brother began a small company that was pretty successful. Until Covid. Covid immediately brought business to a screeching halt and he didn’t know what to do. In fear for his financial future he turned to online illegal activity and was busted before he actually did anything serious. Unfortunately, he still spent a year in prison, days he spoke about with great pain. He made a grave mistake and paid a huge price that will literally affect the rest of his life. After he was released he got involved in a toxic relationship and quickly spiraled down a road of intense self-medicating with drugs and alcohol. He was afraid. So this man, in his late 20’s, decided to take a hike. A very long hike across several states. It gave him a chance to clear his mind and figure out how he wanted the rest of his life to go. The previous many months hadn’t gone the way he’d dreamed about when he was younger and now it was time to put aside the original permutation of those dreams and find new dreams and a new purpose to everyday living. His company is back in business, but it isn’t what he wants to do with the rest of his life. He loves to jam on the guitar and to sing, and he’s hoping to get a chance to perform. That’s his real love.
At one point in the conversation Raleigh admitted that he didn’t own a cellphone. I knew he had a computer (it was sitting in the seat pocket in front of him), so I asked his reason why he balked at using a cellphone. His answer? He felt that having a cellphone kept him from being engaged with people. He wanted to be present wherever he was and was afraid he’d lose opportunities to connect with people if he was always looking down at the electronic in his hand. He talked about some of the amazing people he’d met by merely being aware of those around him instead of being distracted by technology.
We got talking about the people he’d met, some of whom were a bit tough, and I asked him about how he dealt with difficult people (especially if he didn’t have an easy distraction like a cellphone, haha). He shared his life philosophy of love. God expects us to love everyone because everyone has something they can teach us. Getting angry was a waste of his God-given life energy and caused harm to the world. Being bitter took away his ability to feel joy. Stress kept him from enjoying every moment of precious life and freedom. Taking care of each other, meanwhile, is what God expects from us and the more you serve, the closer you are to the Divine.
Raleigh listened to me by looking me squarely in the face and making sure I felt seen, as well as listened to. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic about every thought and idea I had. We spoke for most of our four-hours next to each other talking about everything from religion and politics, family and vacation ideas, to our dreams, and prison reform. We didn’t agree on everything, but we respected each other’s opinions, exploring the whys and wherefores of our beliefs. It was one of the most stimulating conversations I’ve had in a very long time.
We left the plane to pursue vastly different agendas. Raleigh was headed to a music festival several hours away and I was going to spend four wonderful days with my daughter. His activities would include things that I would never personally participate in and mine would be quite tame by his standards. Despite our differences, though, we felt a bond. I vowed to try harder to be aware of people around me so that I wouldn’t miss out on meeting wonderful people in the future. I had planned to read during that flight. What if I had turned on my Kindle before we could establish a connection? What a loss that would be! I’ve also vowed to be more present and less tied to my devices whenever I’m with people.
Vincent Van Gogh taught me this week not to judge the future by current circumstances. Raleigh taught me to not hide from people I judge to be different from me. Both were unexpected opportunities to learn, and I intend to look up and look forward and see the real people all around and discover the amazing things they have to offer. Those are the lessons from the road this week, and what powerful lessons they are!
Look to God and Live... Joyfully! 