Stay focused. If you want to be healthier stay focused on healthy choices, if you want to stop worring stay focused on the good stuff, if you want more love stay focused on receiving, if you want peace stay focused on your inner calm....stay focused. Your soul knows what to do, its your mind you have to watch out for.

The Lure of the Lights

It was a cold holiday evening. I pulled into a small Louisiana bar on my way home. The bar was a shack of a place perched content on the rivers edge. The boating docks were silent now from the summers activities with only the cold river water caressing the sun bleached boards.
It wasn't my nature to go into a bar and I had never ventured in alone.The warm glow of the Christmas lights haphazardly draped over the entrance seemed inviting, like an old friend.
When I opened the door the music from the band poured out into the cold air and enveloped me as I entered. I noticed a few people sitting at the bar and several couples sitting at scattered tables.
There was a kerosene heater sitting near the unused dance floor, competing against the chill coming from the many doors leading out to the decks and the docks.
I quickly decided I would say I was waiting for someone should anyone approach me, but as quickly as my alibi appeared it vanished. Who would inquire. It had been a long time since anyone noticed me , a long time since I had turned any heads. My beauty had faded with too many regrets, and my body was heavy with retreat.
I pulled my coat together and wrapped my arms around myself with the false pretense that it would make me less conspicuous.
I sat a comfortable distance from two old women who appeared motionless until they took a deep slow drag off their cigarette or raised their bourbon to their lips. They were staring off in different directions and looked very familiar to the stuffed toad mounted on the wall over their heads.
I leaned into the wobbly table and turned my attention to the band to keep from making eye contact with anyone, only glancing quickly around the room in short intervals.
The girl behind the bar was closely keeping watch on the level of beer in every bottle as they were turned up and sat back down. She was quick to replace each empty with a full cold one, like little amber soldiers scattered down the length of the bar. Her hair was over bleached and her laughter was overly loud.
A waitress noticed me and started walking my way she had on tight jeans and huge thighs that it made look as if it was difficult for her to walk. Her heavy musk perfume reached me before she was close enough to speak. She stopped in front of the table and propped all her weight on one hip and asked "what can I bring you honey?" I ordered a cajun eggnog that was commonly served this time of year. By the time the waitress had trudged her way back to my table with my drink several groups of people had filtered in and filled what was left of the remaining tables.
That was about the time I noticed him. The man sitting at the bar.
He was turned so he could prop his arm on the bar and rest some of the weight he was carrying around his waist. Weight that was making the buttons on his shirt appear to be desperate for release. His face seemed tired. His eyes drooped like a sad faced bull dog. I tried to imagine him with a younger face, with strong shoulders that were ready for any defense. His shoes were shined, his clothes were pressed and his hair was carefully combed.
I imagined him getting dressed in the morning as his wife sat on the bed watching him and I imagined her thinking of him now wondering if he would make it home safe after another night out. But then again maybe there was no one at home, no one who cared about his safe return. Maybe it had been years since he had been in a bar and he found himself pulled in by the warm lights like myself.
My thoughts were suddenly broken by a voice at my shoulder, a tall thin man who smelled like beer. He had stringy hair falling out from under a ball cap and sheet rock mud on his jeans and shoes. He grinned a toothless grin and asked if id like to dance. I said " no thank you I'm waiting on someone."
The eggnog was making me feel warm inside and a lot more relaxed. The band was playing a slow flowing song. I thought of how nice it would be to move slowly to the music with someone that I enjoyed being close to.
I saw the man at the bar gazing past me and I slowly turned my head to see what had his attention.
It was a painfully thin woman with large red hair, too much jewelry, and a satin blouse that exposed her boney chest where cleavage should have been.
He heaved his weight down from the bar stool and stood for a few seconds as if to balance himself from sitting too long or to gauge the effects from the booze.
He approached the large haired woman and eased his arm half way around her boney shoulders as if to escort her from her chair if she would agree to dance, With a quick rejection he slowly walked back to the bar and resumed his position. propped up and weary.
I wondered when the last time was that he laughed a good hardy laugh. I wondered if he had experienced many trials in life or had life been mundane,  uneventful. Did every day seem the same and every years seem like the year before. Did he have a gentle spirit or was he quick to anger. Did he enjoy the food that had become a burden to his bones or did he shove each mouthful down like memories he was trying to forget.
The band announced they were taking a break and each musician stepped quickly away from their positions and headed for the bar like bugs drawn to a light.
The juke box came to life as if it were being aroused from a deep sleep.
My glass had long been empty, the kerosene heater had lost the battle with the increasing cold and I was without conversation or dancing to keep me warm so I gathered myself up and headed for the door.
No one missed my presence except the large thighed waitress and possibly the beer breath construction worker.
I settled into the comfort of my car. I turned the defroster on and waited for the warmth to take effect on the groaning engine.
The bar room door swung open and spilled light out on my windshield making the ice crystals sparkled like diamond dust. The heat had melted away two circles on the windshield. As I looked through them I saw the man from the bar walking to his car.
I felt something in my heart. Was it sympathy, was it more curiosity, or was it just the glow from the christmas lights that encouraged me to contemplate someone else's well being. Regardless of what it was,  I watched him walk into the darkness and a soft "Merry Christmas" escaped my lips and drifted off in a smokey winter misty breath.

I drove home slow and easy through the stillness of that cold winter night , sure that I would never return. The familiar glow from the holiday lights had pulled me in but my desire was not for anything that the shack of a bar could offer me , what I needed , what I wanted, was something I had lost a long time ago. Something that felt like home.

Beneath the Wing

photo by COHolley

 

 

Beneath the wings is a silent warmth and the pulse of a small heart beating and occasionally the vibration from song.

 Beneath the wing, a sanctuary all its on.The wing opens with only the intent to soar. Then returns to the simple existence of warmth, and of life,  and of song. It returns to sanctuary.