“What Does It Look Like From Up There?”
We are the products of so many things that have impacted our lives. I do not believe that any of us are “self-made”. Rather, I hold to the belief that we are who we are and are the way we are because we have been molded, shaped, squeezed, sat upon, pressured, challenged, changed, taught, picked up, pushed down, inspired, discouraged, achieved, lost, found, and so many other forces and factors that helped us to become the person we have become, and are still becoming. Along the way we have had so many people touch our lives in both good/positive ways and in bad/negative ways. Our life experiences have enabled us to get this far in our journey, and will help guide us on down the trails we are following. Whatever we have known as successes and failures along the way have much to say about who we are and who we will be. Indeed, all of us are works in progress and in process. Some of us have been trekking for a long while; others are just getting started, and others are somewhere in between.
As I look over my shoulders at my past I find many points where I have been touched by someone or something that continues to shape me, even now. One of those occurrences happened many years ago; although, at times, it seems as though it was only yesterday. It involved a question that my mother asked me one afternoon as we were sitting on the patio of our home. Located about a mile to the east from where we were sitting is a knoll, known as “Davis Top”. (Long years ago the whole area around the knoll was owned by a family with the last name of Davis.). As we were talking my mother pointed to the knoll and said, “What does it look like from up there?” The question was a good one, considering that my mother had polio when she was 8 years-old and was left with a severe limp, due to the crippling effects of the disease. Her right leg was much shorter than her left, meaning she had worn braces (metal at first, fiberglass later) and a “built-up shoe heel” for most of her life. Walking was a challenge, painful and demanding. Climbing to the top of Davis Top was out of the realm of possibility for her. Therefore, her question was well stated. My mother desired to see what could be seen from the top of Davis Top, using my words as the lenses for her visual experience.
In response to her question, I began to describe the trees, briars, rusty barbed-wire fence, and a pile of rocks that had possibly been a boundary marker where pieces of property had been divided. My mother asked me to describe the various vistas that could be seen by looking towards the various directions of the compass. She wanted me to tell her about the birds that I had seen. She inquired as to the trail that I had followed in order to reach the summit. She was curious about the picture of our home and farm from “up there” as well. After several minutes of offering responses to her questions she thanked me. She said, “I’ve always wondered what it looked like from up there. Now I know”.
Following that experience, my mother would ask through the passing years about the various places that I would go, particularly when hiking. Upon returning from some trail that I had traversed she wanted to know as much about it as I could describe. By using words, my words, my mother experienced the “up theres” that I had experienced.
She presented a challenge back then that continues to be a challenge for me now. My challenge is to try to use words to describe vistas (of whatever) for others that may not (for whatever reason) get to go “up there” themselves.
With words, well-chosen descriptive words, we may be able to help others see the world as we see it. Of course, if we will just be quiet and listen to the words of others we may be able to see the world as they see it as well.