When I was seven years-old, I read a series of books by Scott Corbett. My favorite was called “The Disappearing Dog Trick.”
The character throughout the series that I treasured most was an old woman who wore a blue dress, high heels, and a fox stole wrapped around her shoulders. You know, the kind with the fox head still on it.
Hey, this was the 60’s. Wearing slaughtered-animal was totally in style.
I finished reading one of the books just before my family piled into our Ford Galaxy 500 to go to Washington D.C. We lived in Alexandria, so the drive wasn’t too long, except for the fact that we had vinyl seats that in the summer could peel the skin off your legs in five minutes flat.
To avoid damaging the tender part of my thighs, I got on my knees and turned around to look out the back window, resting my head on my hands.
Again, it was the 60’s, and no seatbelt was required.
We were driving slowly, going stoplight to stoplight. . .
I looked drowsily out the back windshield, noticing how crowded the streets were in D.C.
Then I saw her – the woman from “The Disappearing Dog Trick.” She had nicely coiffed brown hair, a blue dress, high heels and one of those fox stoles with the head still on it. She was hobbling down the street at a pretty good gait when she spotted me.
Our eyes met and she smiled, raised her eyebrows, ducked her head, and waved at me. My mouth dropped open and I smiled, waving in return.
I yelled for my sister and brother to turn around, but by the time they did she was no longer there.
My rational brain kicked in immediately, making me wonder if I actually saw her. But I wasn’t asleep, nor was I looking for this character. I was just trying to pass the time in a year when cars were not small movie theaters on wheels.
Even if this woman was a resident of D.C. who happened to wear EXACTLY what the character in my book wore, there were more questions. Why did she choose that dress on that day? Why was she wearing a fox stole on a hot summer afternoon? Why did I notice her, specifically, when the streets were so busy? Why did she wave at a little tow-head in the back of a Ford Galaxy 500?
Perhaps because there’s more going on than our rational mind recognizes . . .
I believe that we miss a lot of life trying to prove what we sense with our intuition. I’m hoping that apologizing for our intuitive side will soon be a thing of the past.
If you want to give your creative side a workout, you need to:
I’m telling you that something bigger than us is going on — that building life around what can be explained is like driving while looking in the rearview mirror.
Have some fun. Find the things that are inexplicable, and when your left brain says “There must be a rational explanation,” tell it to s-h-h-h-h-h-. And remember that rational explanations started as magic or something equally frightening to a lot of people.
I believe in things yet to be proven. I like to take risks. If I didn’t, I would have never gotten a shag haircut or worn parachute pants.
Or waved at a little lady in a fox stole walking down the streets of Washington D.C.
“All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.” — J.M. Barrie