Who is your oldest friend? I don’t mean Methuselah, just the person who goes back furthest in your life? It’s important because that person is the far limit of what is relevant in your memories. You can share recollections with newer friends, of course, but like a photograph fading, the context diminishes. (You had to be there…) It’s a bit of a shock as time passes and details central to your history and who you are become less and less portable.
A phone call from my
oldest friend brought this home to me recently. I call her “Wampus,” she calls
me “Treesqueak,” and we are unrelated by blood but cousins-by-choice since
childhood. Our families, now gone, were so interrelated that but through her I
would not know that I had a couple of brothers who died before me or that I was
born in the lobby of a hospital or that our colorful relatives were a jolly mix
of sinners and saints. My old man had Eliot Ness’s old job (“The Untouchables”
– film/TV) while at the same time “Uncle” Ruben was delivering “ice” (booze run
across the frozen Detroit River from Canada) to the infamous Purple Gang.
Wampus reminds me of
other things I have forgotten too. Like ushers hauling us out of the Oakman
theater (also the Tuxedo and the Avalon) … And the magical Gypsy Camp cottage
where we spent summers immersed in countless adventures on Elizabeth Lake near
Keego Harbor (decades later I swam while my family rowed a borrowed boat across
that fabled lake, and tried to baptize my chilluns in that holy water, but the
whole thing meant nothing to them). (You
had to be there...) … Or the time when my older sister kept young Robin
Page talking while he hid a lit cigarette until his pocket caught on fire … And
Page’s drugstore where Robin’s older brother Bill behind the counter offered a
free soda to anyone who could name all the states and their capitals. Duck soup
for little Tommy Sullivan, 8 years old. I owe Wampus lots of sodas…
Anyway, our memories
– our relevance – is limited by what we share and with whom. I want to share,
but I’m bad at it. The legacy of a family that kept it secrets trained me to be
more of an observer than a participant in confidences. There have only been a
couple of very special souls who drew me out. And it seems as if I could describe
myself five days in a row and I would be five different people. (You had to be there...)
Maybe that’s why I’ve learned to mark anniversaries and use them as stepping stones to keep track of where I’ve been and where I’m going. Some days are benchmarks, static markers in the rearview mirror (11-11-91 Freedom Day), and some are flowing sand in the hourglass, like March 17th (almost every year since 1964 when I missed my event in the Nationals something life-changing happens) or 05-03-06 (which in 2016 will mark 10 years since I received the first email from the love-of-my-life). Lots of other anniversaries. There is continuity in that and meaning. Threads vibrate in subtle and magical ways. A golden thread can lead you happily through the maze of your life. May you find your golden threads and learn to separate them from the anchor chains. (You HAVE to be there...)
My latest archived
column GLASS BUBBLES & THE PERFECT FAME may be seen here: http://www.storytellersunplugged.com/2015/09/17/thomas-sullivan-glass-bubbles-the-perfect-fame/#respond
Ran into God today. The Prime Mover was painting with watercolors that dripped from the sky in a light rain as I hiked Crow-Hassan. His subject was four horizons and three of them – woods, ponds and fields – were finished while you could see the brushstrokes diluted by light in the fourth. Wonderful feeling seeing that and knowing that life is equally subject to change and fulfillment by the art in all of us. Life and nature are always under construction. There be magic! In particular that rare glimpse at a sky that looks to be a solid canvas but has enchantment painted in translucent patches like the fenestras in a butterfly’s wings.
Art is passion. Hope you are getting yours. Nothing worse than living in a black-and-white world where life is a number painting and your brush is drying out. That may constitute existence while the clock ticks down on your one and only shot, but can you call it living? Nothing stopping you from pulling out that Technicolor canvas you have hidden in your heart and adding a few strokes here and there, now and then, when you are alone and the light is just right. Take your fantasies, your dreams – your imagination – into nature and see the magic appear!
LATE
BULLETIN: Australian Grant Soosalu, better known as the Wizard of Oz for his
pioneering work in making brain theory accessible to millions of people seeking
a positive lifestyle, recently interviewed me for his “Remarkable Brains”
series. The sparkling discussion focuses on happiness eliminating negativity,
and many of the themes in Grant’s new best-seller LOVING YOUR LIFE!
(game-changer inspiration) and has just gone on-line here: http://www.mbraining.com/interviews-with-remarkable-brains/interview-with-thomas-sullivan
Woke up the next morning to some rave reviews from around the globe from people who
had already listened to it. One of those came from an inspirational force similar
to Grant Soosalu living a compassionate and meaningful life who was kind enough
to send along some photos. Veronica Munro lives in Dubai but works across
Africa and the Mid-East as an International Executive Coach and Business
Performance Specialist. Love the fact that she was sitting in a hotel room in
Nairobi planning out initiatives with Save the Children when she became engaged
in my interview and was kind enough to immediately email. I’ve added her photos
below as a bonus to accompany this announcement. Hope you enjoy the interview –
Grant and I always build up a head of steam when we get into exchanges. Please
feel free to email me any comments at mn333mn@earthlink.net
