A Serendipitous Saturday

On a typical Saturday morning I am awake and moving no later than eight o’clock.  This past Saturday I slept later than I normally do.  On Friday night I had attended a baseball game. It was a Subway Series game between the two New York baseball teams the Mets and the Yankees.  Due to heavy rain the game’s start had been delayed by an hour. At the end of the night I was very happy with the outcome, my team won.  However,by the time I arrived home it was twelve thirty in the morning.  It had been a long week at work and after the delayed game I was extremely tired.

  The next morning I awoke at nine fifteen this is later than I normally do.  I took my time getting moving. I savored my much needed cup of coffee, read the newspaper, took care of my on-line banking and caught up with my Facebook friends.  I knew my plans for the day consisted of chores, but I yearned to go out for a walk. I needed to let my mind, body and spirit synchronize and exercise.  The great outdoors has a way of doing this.  I changed my clothes, laced up my sneaker and headed out.  It was a beautifully clear early summer morning.  The sky was deep blue and the air reflected my mood, light, airy and carefree. 

  When I walk I carry my phone along with me.  It is not so I can make calls or answer text message, but to take pictures.  I happen to be the proud owner of a magical Blackberry.  It has a knack for capturing not only an image, but a thought or a feeling that is associated with the picture. For the past year or so heart shaped images have been following me.  They appear in the form of rocks, clouds, oil stains, snow, paint spills, puddles, and as reflections in the water.  They have even appeared in the center of my morning bagel.

  On Saturday morning I came across a perfectly heart shaped oil stain.  For the past week I have had a new image shadowing me.  It is the letter “M”.  I believe it holds a message for a friend of mine.  On Friday morning there were two “M”’s that appeared in the sky and on Saturday morning one more appeared on the road as a reflection through the tree leaves.  When I arrived home I sent these images to my friend.  She responded instantly in the same awe and amazement that I did. I recited to myself, “No accidents, all as it should be.”

  As I was getting ready for my day I realized that since my bank had been sold to another institution I needed to make a credit card payment in person.  The bank is in the opposite direction that I was planning on going, but I needed to take care of this.  I showered, changed my clothes, compiled my grocery list and headed out.  My time was tight.  The bank closed at one o’clock.  It was twelve thirty-five and I had at least a fifteen minute drive.

  As walked to the driveway and  reached for the handle to my car door I stopped.  The sun was cresting over the tree in my back yard and the clouds that were nestled next to the leaves looked like angels wings.  I released the car handle and walked into the back yard.  The extra minute was not only worth it, but meant to be, there was an angel watching over me.

 My route to the bank includes traveling over a picturesque two lane country road.  I was listening to a CD called “The Prayer Cycle” by Elias.  It is not only beautiful, but magically southing an equally alluring. The premise of the CD is that music is Universal.  It does not matter what language it is sung in.  We are all connected and moved by the tones and the inherent feeling.

   As I gazed ahead the beauty that I was admiring sucked the air from my lungs. I was not only breathless, but speechless.  The clouds that filled the sky looked so serene and absolutely perfect.  How was it possible that on this day, Van Gogh painted the sky?  I needed to pull over on a side street and capture the moment.

  I made it to the bank with five minutes to spare!  With my transaction complete I was drawn to turn right out of the parking lot, not the way I should go, left.  If I turned left I would be traveling a more direct route to my shopping destination, but that was not part of the plan.  I turned right.  As I was driving I had a thought, “An ice cream cone would hit the spot.”  And of course there was an ice cream shop along this route. So I made my mind up to stop at Weirs.  It has is a local spot that has quenched many souls along with its sweetness.

  I pulled into the parking lot, parked the car and made my way to the counter to order.  You know anything in moderation is good.  I wanted a small twist soft serve ice cream cone (it is a mix of chocolate and vanilla, a half and half of sorts.) At this time of the day the ice cream stand is not that busy.  There were just a few people before me. The moment that I stood in the line the woman in front of me yelled, “Kathy!”  She removed her sunglasses and hugged me. In an instant I recognized her. She possesses the most welcoming brown eyes you will ever see, a warm a smile that engages your heart and a hug that fills your soul. Within our lineage, this woman and I share a dear mutual friend. The type of friend that is always there for you no matter what, and on a typical day, has the ability to make you laugh until you cry.

  My friend having more will power than I ordered a small frozen yogurt, I went for my small twist ice cream cone. With our frozen treasures in hand we made our way to a picnic bench.  And then the flood gates opened. The gates did not release tears, but rather words. Honest conversation. These are the types of words that have the ability to bind heart to heart, connect wisdom to wisdom and link shared experience to shared experience.

  We exchanged information regarding the progress of our families. We spoke of groups we belong to.  She shared her journey in life with a new partner.  I shared my life altering trip to Sedona Arizona last year.  We spoke of shared books read.  Joan Anderson’s works were significant for both of us.  “A Year by the Sea”, “A Walk on the Beach” and “The Second Journey” whispered to both of us.  She had attended one of Joan’s retreats at The Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, New York and I was mesmerized as she recited the perfectly imparted wisdom of Joan Anderson. 

  We spoke of the book “Broken Open” written by Elizabeth Lesser and the significance that it had upon our lives.  Elizabeth’s words had touched us both. Through her experience Elizabeth had impacted our lives and our decisions.  With all of this discussion of words and their power, I shared that I had started this blog, and I explained how it was inspired by sharing Joan Anderson’s book “A Year by the Sea”.  Not only was Joan’s book instrumental in starting this blog, but it fueled several other friendships.

  As the conversation continued she shared that her gentleman friend was writing a book and that he had joined a local writing group.  The group was the very one that I had inquired about a year prior.   Somehow when you speak words out loud their intentions are committed to action.  I explained how I have plans to attend a writing workshop that is being conducted by an author who lives in Montana.  This is something that I need to do for me, much like my trip to Sedona. These experiences fill in the hollow pieces that reside within my soul.  And when these pieces have been filled and connected I have the ability to move forward freely and unencumbered. 

   Sitting on that bench I almost felt as she and I were the characters in Dan Fogelbergs song “Old Lang Syne.”  As the line goes “Our tongues were tired and we were running out of things to say”. But in our case we weren’t running out of things to say, we were merely running out of time.  Our frozen treats were long gone. However each of realized that the confectionary pleasure was not the purpose of the meeting, it was merely the conduit.  We shared our thoughts, fears, ideas and dreams. We shared them honestly and without reservation.   The funny thing is, as much as this conversation was one that you would share over coffee with a girlfriend, but that was not our relationship.  The Universe needed to make this meeting happen……and I am so very glad that it did.  I walked away refreshed, with a full heart and a smile that lite my soul both inward and outward.

  As I drove away from the ice cream stand I was satisfied and full not only physically but also emotionally.   I went to Wal-Mart, completed my shopping and exited the store unscathed. Upon my arrival home I unpacked the groceries and moved on.

 That evening while sitting on my deck I continued to take photos of the clouds.  The “M’s continued to appear before me. The message for my long distant friend that I spoke of this morning was apparent. As I stared at the clouds above and snapped picture after picture with my magical Blackberry I realized something.  Each step of my day was orchestrated.  Each moment was as it was to be.  Every person I spoke with I was intended to converse with. The messages I recieved and shared were as they were intented to be.   It was all perfect. ...down to the very last “M”. 

Never say never....Or never say No-No.

Friday night I bore witness to a historical event.  It may not be what you consider history worthy, but if you are a New York Mets baseball fan you agree, June 1, 2012 was a special evening. It was an event that was fifty years in the making.  After playing eight thousand and nineteen baseball games a Mets pitcher had not thrown a no hit, no run game.  And at the conclusion of the Mets eight thousand and twentieth game Johan Santana delivered what no other Met pitcher ever had, we could finally say we had a no-no!

  I share my birth year with the New York Metropolitan Baseball club; aka the New York Mets. We both came into existence in 1962. I have always been a Mets fan and have many fond memories of attending games with my Dad.  Each year he took me to some games and even included some of the special ones, helmet day, banner day and Willie Mays day. The past several years I have continued to support my team.  Along with three friends I have purchased a fifteen game package of tickets.   Even on the nights the team didn’t perform well, we always managed to have fun and share many laughs.

   The arrival of the Mets filled the void that occurred when two other National League New York baseball teams packed their bags and moved.  Both the Giants and the Dodgers headed to the West Coast after the 1957 season.  Unfortunately, the Mets have always been the red headed step child in the New York baseball arena.   Our cross town, big brother Yankees possess a long and deservedly earned rich and successful history.  With the exception of a few magical years the Mets have always lived in the shadows while the Yankees resided in the limelight.

 Friday night was the night when the red headed step child stole the stage.  It struck me that the story of the Mets and this event parallels life.

  There have been so many talented pitchers that have donned a Met uniform.  Some have been inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.  There was Nolan Ryan, Tom Seaver, Jerry Koosman, David Cone, Dwight Gooden and Ron Darling just to name a few.  Several of these athletes have pitched at least one no hitter, but not one did while with the New York Mets.  For various reasons they were traded to other teams.  I doubt that if the Mets management knew that Nolan Ryan was going to pitch seven no hit games in his career that they would have traded him. Hind sight is always twenty-twenty, crystal clear.  Everyone one of us has had to make a major life decision.  Many times when we retrospectively looked at that choice, and sometime we would have made a different one. 

  When the Saint Louis Cardinals were batting at the top of sixth inning former Met, Carlos Beltran sharply hit a ball that was called foul by the third base umpire.  The umpire was in perfect position to make the call and in that instant; he saw the ball as foul.  So the Beltran’s at bat was extended. He then hit a ground ball to third base and was thrown out.  Keep in mind the umpire made the call while viewing the action in real time.  The play occurred so fast.  Of course with slow motion and multiple camera angles it appeared as if the ball touched the outside edge of the chalk field markings, and according the baseball rules should be a fair ball, a hit.  This play has been a topic of discussion. It has questioned the accuracy of the no hitter.   In life we call things as we see them and make decisions accordingly.  People have a way of using “slow motion camera’s” while looking at how we live our lives.  They have their own opinions of what we should do or shouldn’t do, but only we can make the call in the moment. We do so with our own vision, and internal compass.  Don’t let the second guessing and external chatter get to you.

  Johan Santana joined the Mets in 2008.  He came to the team as a very successful power pitcher and the Mets fans viewed him as our great hope.  Johan lived up to the hype.  He pitched very well.  He would allow the opposing team few to no runs per game, but he received little to no offensive support from his teammates.  He never complained. He never called his teammates out.  He merely continued to do his job and be a leader.

  Johan missed the entire 2011 baseball season.  At the end of the 2010 campaign it was discovered that he needed shoulder surgery.  The operation was an unusual one for a pitcher.  While performing the surgery the Doctors discovered that the damage was worse than they had initially thought.  Johan spent the entire 2011 season on the sidelines working his way back.  It was not a sure bet that he was going to break the 2012 spring training camp with the team.  But he did.  During spring training the Mets pitching coach Dan Warthen said to the media, “You would probably see the real Johan Santana around June 1^st…….boy was he right!

  Johan never called out his teammates for the lack of support.  Many times they let him down, but he never called them out. He worked diligently to return to the pitching mound and he did.  The beginning of this season contained some rocky starts.  There was even one in Atlanta where he did not make it past the second inning.  He walked off the field confidently, continued to work hard and always held his head high. 

  Friday night Johan’s team score eight runs for him, unprecedented offensive support for one of his starts, but there were also several noteworthy defensive plays.   The pivotal one was made by Mike Baxter at 27 year old with limited major league experience before this season.  Mike grew up in Queens New York the home of the Mets.  He is a Mets fan through and through.  He knew what a no hitter would mean to the organization and its fans.  So when the Cardinal’s Yadier Molina sent a line drive shot to the left field warning track, Mike Baxter crashed into the wall carrying every Met fan on his back, and he did the unthinkable, he held onto the ball even as he lay on the ground writhing in pain.

  Johan knew to never give up on his teammates. He knew that one day they will support and surprise him in ways he never imagined or expected.  I too have been amazed at the people who have come through for me at the very moment that I needed them. 

  As the game progressed into the eighth inning I needed to call my Dad.  I wanted him to know where I was.  History was in the making and I was part of it, front and center.  Dad cultivated my interest in the game and this team and I wanted him to know that I was a witness to potential history. These are the ties that bind us.  When the phone was answered I could not hear a word my Mother said, but I knew that my parents knew where I was. I was chided for making the call prior to the no hitter being recorded, but I knew whether or not I made the call the outcome was going to be as it was destined to be. And destiny was on our side.

 The tension, excitement and energy were palpable during the eighth and ninth innings. With each pitch that Johan delivered the tension heightened.  Every swing of the bat was significant. Could it be after fifty years the Mets were finally going to have a no hitter?

  When the final pitch was delivered and the strike out recorded, the stadium erupted into a collective euphoria and a tremendous sigh of relief.  The screaming, cheering and tears were deafening.  There was a release of fifty years of frustration and disappointment.  Finally the monkey was lifted from our backs.  It was done, history was recorded. A New York Mets pitcher had now thrown a no hitter, and I was there to witness it.

 We all come into ourselves at our appointed pace and time.  For some, it takes longer to occur than others. Sometimes the waiting makes the accomplishment more defined, and more profound.  It is sweeter than sweet.  When you preserver towards a goal for a long time, and it takes longer than usual for the achievement to occur, the goal takes on a life larger than itself.  Maybe some of us are late bloomers, or maybe the timing was never right. But when it does occur, it is pure, it is right and truly meant to be.  Congratulations Johan Santana and the New York Mets.  Never give up, and never stop believing in what may be. Always believe and trust in yourself and greatness will not be far away.