The Bridges Home Day 31 Y2

The closest metropolis to my house is home to 28,500 souls.   Add the 2500 co-eds at a local women’s college, and that number exceeds 30,000!   The street lights, stop lights and garbage pick-up of the “Big City” lend it the feel of a busy place. There are even parking cops ticketing cars that are in violation of meter rules.  After late afternoon errands, I head home; generally, I pass over three bridges.  The view grows more and more expansive.  The cluster of houses spaces out and they give up encroaching on each other’s territories.  As I leave the City, the bridges channel me away from the hustle and bustle.  The bridges are more than a metaphor; they carry me toward the more tranquil life I lead on a secluded mountain with a view of the night sky and sometimes, the far away city lights.  

Night sky from the mountain.

Frank Talk

I try very hard to put a positive spin on the events in my life. After all, negativity tends to feed negativity, whereas as positivity breeds optimism. I can see how very much of my internal compass was tempered by the books I read as a child. Case in point, look on your library’s bookshelves. There, you will find 100-year old books about girls who had indomitable and cheerful spirits; they uplifted even the most cantankerous people in town with their kind hearts and winning smiles. One such book was called Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and another was Pollyanna. These novels shared the theme of how a sunny and optimistic disposition can bring light into the darkest days. Another significant influence on my perspective on life is easily traced to the Beatitudes, purportedly preached by Jesus at his Sermon on the Mount:

List of Beatitudes:
As of in Matthew 5:3-12:
Blessed are the Poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

I mean no disrespect to those religious scholars amongst you by referring to Jesus, Polyanna and Rebecca in one breath. However, each, in its own way laid down the tracks on my psyche about how to deal with a life that, at times, seems imperfect and injust. I have looked for answers from Kahill Gibran to Ghandi, from Jonathon Livingson Seagull to Pooh Bear. Rabbi Kushner is yet another frequent advisor when I feel life’s challenges are outnumbering me. That inner mechanism that lifts us out of despair, allows us to feel empathy for others, and grants us the ability to bestow forgiveness upon ourselves and others seems to be a universal constant across time, culture and character. I have been fortunate to have had glimpses of that chimera-like secret for brief instances. When I have it pinpointed, I will certainly write a best-seller, be interviewed by Oprah and earn my own place in history.
Day31

Steve Jobs 1955-2011: A Man I Did Not Know

Most of us hope to live a life in which we are loved, a life in which we matter and finally, a life after which, we will be remembered. I did not know Steve Jobs, but I can safely say that he has led such a life. This man I did not know has profoundly enhanced the quality of my life. I am disabled and his genius brings me the world every day. By computer, by phone, I am connected.
Last weekend, my seventeen-year old son insisted I sell my three-year old Macbook and replace it with a Macbook Air because it is so much lighter and easier for me to manage. I have my life organized on my iPhone and FaceTime let's me visit my children who have scattered to the winds whenever they agree to it. Steve Job's imagination intersects with my life all the time.
My first job out of college was working for a financial consulting company that specialized in performing reimbursement analyses for hospitals in the Northeast. We used "sophisticated" computer-modeling on a mainframe that was housed in a separate building. The building had huge air-conditioners in order to cool the room in which the computer worked its magic. It was the off-spring of a University of Massachusetts project put to good use. We heard someday, computers would fit in our briefcases, but it was hard to believe.
Five years later, I had a job training Silicone Valley executives on principles of leadership and communication. The seismic shift between dial up modems and the room-sized monsters to which I was accustomed and these new computers they were building was hard to digest. I inched along with the rest of the world on my p.c., wondering about the future.
Inadvertently, I learned about Macs after a brilliant computer designer from Washington state came and stayed at my house for a couple of weeks while his mother, my next-door neighbor, died. This man, often homeless, would pick up work troubleshooting at Fortune 500 companies when their computer systems crashed. He would earn buckets of money, live on it until it ran out, then repeat the process. He told stories of working with this guy from his I had never heard of. He told me to write down these names. " STEVE JOBS and STEVE WOZNIAK.. Trust me, we worked together on some projects in the late 70's. You will hear his name a lot soon enough. You wouldn't believe what Steve Jobs is doing…." then my guest launched into a language I couldn't possibly profess to understand, particularly while manning the chaos of three children under five. In retrospect, I feel like I had an oracle in my house.
Steve Jobs came home to me through my son. Since he has been eleven, my son stretch out on his bed, lying on his stomach, reading daily Apple.com updates. He teases me about my former habit of reading the dictionary. Little does he know his kids will probably tease him about his intense study and knowledge of all things Apple. He has been getting to the point that he can predict product direction and marketing strategy. Tonight, my son came in to my room and told me Steve Jobs died.
"Mom, I can't believe it. He was my inspiration."
So Steve Jobs has found his way into my life on many levels. I did not know Steve Jobs, but his life has mattered to me, and he will be remembered.

Dawn Elise Evans