Rocks for Sale

As I was driving down our street on a recent Saturday morning I came upon a very interesting sale. The neighbor kids across from us were out on their driveway in front of a hand painted sign that read, “Rocks for Sale.” Naturally, I had to investigate. The kids had painted some rocks and added glitter to create what they considered works of art. These sub-precious stones were for sale at the bargain rate of only 25 cents each. Now I’m a sucker for anything that kids sell. In fact, we have a family policy that no matter how much of a hurry you’re in you have to stop at every lemonade stand and make a purchase. And I had to admit that a rock sale, while clearly unconventional, conformed to at least the spirit of the aforementioned lemonade policy. Needless to say, I stopped to peruse the geologic curiosities of the neighborhood rock barons.

Clearly these preschool kids were onto something because their creations were interesting, to say the least. They thought they had some truly marketable treasures and who was I to dispute the unbiased artistic wisdom of children. This gave me pause to consider some of the things that grownups assign value to. In fact, we seem to fill our lives with trinkets and conveniences that have little more intrinsic value than those glitter rocks did. Our stores, art galleries and even art museums are brimming with items that have no more utility than a rock, and are often far less appealing … at least in my opinion. Not to mention that you’d be hard pressed to derive a greater joy-per-dollar benefit than these particular 25 cent rocks promised. I’m clearly not an art critic, but you would have to concede that throughout our culture there are countless items, art and otherwise, for which the assigned value is often unrelated to the intrinsic value or the utility value. This merely confirms the old adage that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.

Consequently, I would challenge each of you to survey your own life and consider what things are truly precious. If you’re anything like me, you may discover that you have assigned value to many things that are actually worthless in the long run. What is more, we often work ourselves to death so that we can own all these things. Perhaps they even own us. As it turns out the most priceless things in our lives are probably the ones that don’t cost anything; like people, happiness, laughter, faith and the like. So those are the things in which to invest our precious and limited resources.

I’ve included a poem below that I actually did write on another occasion, while watching some little girls assign artistic value to a pile of rocks on a beach long ago. They taught me a lesson which I have never forgotten. That lesson was that joy can be derived from almost anything if you approach it with the heart of a child. So don’t fill your life with stuff that doesn’t matter. Instead, look for the beauty in what is near at hand … and discover how to enjoy it. And if you should happen to pass happen to pass a sign that reads “Rocks for Sale” hit the brakes, dump all the coins out of your car’s ash tray, and get yourself a whole bag of the little beauties. I bought five.

Pebbles

I watched a little girl
Sitting on the beach today
Sorting through the stones and pebbles
Which she kept or tossed away
To me, they all looked worthless
Yet, her childish eyes could see
A value hidden in them
Which, somehow, eluded me
For out of countless thousands
She chose a special few
Based on shape or size or texture
Or some unusual hue
Proclaiming they were priceless
That she must have them for her own
She found value, even beauty
Where I saw only cold, grey stone
Tomorrow they’d be stones once more
Which she would cast away
To be polished by the ocean
And found again another day
And it occurs that she’s no different
Than most grownups I have known
Who spend their lives pursuing
What they consider precious stone
Which they pile up in heaps
Around their children and their wives
With the goal that all their treasure
Would bring value to their lives
Until, one day, they wake up
And discover, to their shock
That what they spent their lives on
Amounts to but a pile of rock
When we search for things of value
We must choose most carefully
So we only keep the real gems
And toss the pebbles back in the sea
                   By Frank Carpenter ©

The End of the Jetty

Last Sunday morning I rose when it was still dark and drove to the tip of the Balboa Peninsula, whereupon I scrambled over the rocks to the end of the west jetty at the entrance to Newport Harbor. I’ve lived in this area my whole life, but I’m not sure that I had ever made it out there before. However, I’d had a hankering to do so because an image of that spot had been swirling around in my head for a few weeks, and I was well-rewarded for my efforts. Now I do live in an amazing area, but it never ceases to amaze me what there is to be discovered just a few minutes from our front doors. The trick is that we actually have to walk out of our doors in search of adventure. If we’re busy and we don’t care, then we’re not likely to experience anything truly amazing. Yet, if we actively pursue beauty or wonder or adventure there is plenty to be found within striking distance of wherever you may be. An open mind and a little creativity can often open doors of experience that we might never have thought possible. I’m trying to learn to approach each day with the thought, “Well God, what have you got in store for me today?” That’s the kind of open-ended question which is more than likely to deliver.

The other thing I find is that being up and ready to go in the morning makes a world of a difference if we want to discover all that life has to offer. If we’re spending our whole lives just barely getting ready in time for the next calendar item we’re liable to walk or drive right by some of the best moments that life has to offer. Much of life happens in the margins, in the blank squares on our calendars or extra moments in a day. Take, for instance, my experience of last Sunday that I have relayed in the paragraph above and the poem below. I woke early in expectation of something worthwhile happening. I drove and walked and boulder hopped and had the margin in my life to sit out on the end of the jetty all by myself for an hour. I experienced all that, actually saw all of those animals up close, felt the ocean spray on my face, experienced the wonder of creation first-hand and reveled in the beauty of an amazing new day … and still made it to church on time. That’s what I mean by actively pursuing beauty and wonder and adventure. Half of life is simply showing up, just being available to live it to the fullest.

For those who are willing to approach life, or any given day, with that attitude there is a rich reward waiting for them. Not a monetary reward, but the simple joy which comes from actually living life. The proverbial brass ring isn’t always even tangible. I understand that not everyone has the good fortune to have the ocean so near at hand. However, there are pockets of beauty and wonder everywhere. There are sunrises and sunset everywhere. There are perfect flowers and majestic trees and dew-covered spider webs everywhere. The secret of enjoying life to the fullest isn’t about where you are, but who you are. It isn’t about what we see, but how we see. You can never find happiness or experience joy by simply being in the right place; physically or financially, or whatever. It’s about being a person who is willing to experience happiness and joy, being willing to go out and look for it … wherever you are.

So I challenge you to ask that question. “Well God, what have you got in store for me today?” Ask that question and then get out of bed or off of your comfy chair or away from your desk for a little while, and then go look for the answer. Me? I hiked to the end of the jetty, and I wasn’t disappointed. How about you?

The End of the Jetty

I hiked to the end of the jetty,
to its point, at the end of all things
In the grey of an early spring morning,
to see what the moment would bring
With the land and its worries behind me,
I gazed out over the sea
To the edge of the far horizon,
letting my mind wander free
The surf rose and crashed about me,
breaking, it seemed, at my feet
Flooding my morning with thunder
and the spray that I find so sweet
The bell buoy clanged out its cadence
as it tossed in irregular swells
While the seals who perched upon it
called out to me, “all is well”
Countless sea gulls serenaded,
swooping or bobbing nearby
A curious pelican joined me,
then sized me up eye to eye
A pod of dolphins meandered past,
not more than a stone’s throw away
But they took their leave and swam on
after bidding me a good day
Starfish clung to the rocks below,
in patches of orange and red
As the relentless waves strove doggedly
to dislodge them from their bed
Sea lions worked the edge of my perch,
as the bait fish darted and dashed
In their timeless dance with predators,
while the ocean foamed and crashed
Down in the depths the brilliant orange
of garibaldi could be seen
Among the restless arms of kelp
which fringed the waters green
All this I observed on that morning
and the images flood my head
Such beauty and wonder savored
while most folks were still warm in bed
But I hiked to the end of the jetty,
by myself in the earliest grey
To let the ocean wash over my soul,
and usher in a glorious day
             By Frank Carpenter ©

Perfect Moments

Below I recount an inspiring moment from my own recent personal life. I’m quite fond of the specific memory and the beauty that my “word painting” recalls. Upon reflection, however, there is also much to extrapolate from that experience and how it might apply to the other parts of our lives. As an example, even on that particular day I alone paused to observe the scene and fully immerse myself in it. The rest of my companions hiked on, perhaps missing many of the details of that little valley, along with the emotions they evoked. This perfect moment had an impact on me that I’m writing about a year later. The same often proves true in the other areas of our lives. We tend to rush past so much that life has to offer instead of pausing to actually be anywhere. I recently read a book entitled “Chasing Daylight” by Eugene O’Kelly. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer and spent his final months trying to live in the moment, while attempting to create “perfect moments” of closure with his friends and loved ones. It’s merely coincidental that my poem shares a title with this concept, which I read about a year later … if you believe in coincidence. Yet, the main idea comes shining through.

Anyway, the point I’m getting at is that we don’t have to be dying, or off in the mountains, in order to seek out and enjoy the perfect moments in our lives. They are all around us, but we have to slow down long enough to recognize and enjoy them. And that’s what we really want out of life, isn’t it? We long for perfect moments with our friends and spouses and children. We relish perfect moments in nature, in church, and even in our own living rooms. That’s the quality of life that means so much more than the quantity. When you return from vacation and people ask about it, you don’t tell them how many miles you drove or how many restaurants or hotel rooms you visited. No, you recount the highlights, the moments that made all those miles worth driving. Yet, in so many areas of our lives we measure their value by the odometer. In the end, though, how far rarely ends up being as important as how well.

And I leave you with that thought. Where do you need to pause in your own life to create perfect moments that you’ll remember a year from now … or ten years? You certainly don’t have to travel to the mountains. It might be as simple as pulling your car over to watch the sunset or pausing to look at the dew on a spider web. It might be playing catch or kicking a ball with the kids. It might be holding hands while you watch TV instead of sitting in separate chairs. Look for the perfect moments and grab onto them with both hands. If you do, I can definitely promise that you will never regret it.

Perfect Moments
The cool breeze which greets me
From the patch of nearby snow
Brings a kiss of fading winter
I’d forgotten long ago
Yet its final frozen vestiges
Still cling beneath the trees
By a pristine lake we hiked to
Where I paused to take my ease
Though it’s summer in the Wasatch
And June has nearly flown
The snowfields of this valley
Still seem to hold their own
The best of winter, spring and summer
Have converged here for a time
And the beauty each contributes
Brings a sense of the sublime
To this perfect day and moment
I have the privilege to know
So I thank God for quiet valleys
Lakes and stubborn fields of snow
By Frank Carpenter ©