A Day In The Life of a Gypsy

I suppose it comes to no surprise that I'm starting yet another blog. Seeing as I have chosen to delete all of my social networking sites, I am hoping to find an outlet in blogging. Don't get me wrong, I am not opposed to SN sites. I am just finding that I want to get back to my personal roots. Back to my intended purpose (whatever that may be.) Yea Yea, so why are you blogging on the internet Shana? The internet is an addiction, much like any other habit, good or bad, it's a hard one to kick!

Tuesday was my day off. I took that day, and had planned on running some personal errands. I woke up, got showered and dressed, loaded 12 bags of clothes, shoes, jackets and a few household items into my car, and headed off to run my errands. First stop was to the local Community Thrift Store where I donated all 12 bags. When the gentleman asked me if I needed a tax receipt I proudly stated, No Sir! I know it's a bit cheesy, but something about giving without receiving is unbelievable. I need to do such a thing more often. It just so happened, on this cold, grey, rainy day I brought my Camera with me. I've been longing to capture photos, memories, life. I'm heading back towards the library with my kindle and laptop in tow as to do some personal research, read more of the Book of Buddha, print my W2's, etc etc. As I drive through the town square, I notice two elder men, in their early 70's would be my guess. They are standing on the side of the road, in the rain, holding signs that say, "No More War" and "War is Not the ONLY answer." Now, it's not unusual in this small town to find people picketing on the town square, usually its for anti gay rights or anti abortion. (The Joy's of the bible belt.) This time, I was taken aback. To see two old men, in the rain, protesting War. Men who have obviously been to war themselves. Men who have seen it, lived it, relived it. Men who still have the nightmares. To protest on this cold and rainy day really spoke volumes. I politely waved to them both, and drove on. I made it about 2 miles past when a voice inside me said, Turn Around, Take their photos. Of course, I hesitated for a moment. One of my personal faults is fear and intimidation in all types of scenarios. I can usually talk my self out of listening to that little voice inside my head. This time, I talked myself into it. I turned my car around, parked, and in the wet, cold, dreary day, walked up to one of the gentleman and asked if I could take a few photo's. He politely obliged, so long as he didn't have to smile. I giggled and said, I personally would prefer you not to. I want you to do as natural as you do. After getting a few shots, he asked me to stand with him and hold a sign.

Ok, so here is where it starts. I am a confused individual. A mix of a hippy and a rebel. (Yes, I know, very contradicting.) Nevertheless, I accept that this is who I am. I love to shoot guns, I enjoy eating the Venison that is brought to me by local hunters. I am a natural in the woods. I support my troops, I support the men and woman that are risking their lives so that I can voice my opinion on the side of the road. I found a sign I felt comfortable holding, he offered to take a few pictures of myself. We stood their, chatting in the rain, for a good hour or so. I'm holding my sign, which says "Support our Troops, Bring them home." I am taken aback at the amount of dirty looks we get as well as the amount of thumbs up. All these people driving by in their warm vehicles, dry, comfortable. As myself and these two men are standing up for what we personally believe in.

The one gentleman, we will call him Kent, and I strike up quite a conversation. He is asking me questions about myself, and I am answering truthfully. He looks at me in shock with some of my responses to questions like, why did you stop, what are your views, etc. Somewhere along the line, he asks my age. I tell him I am 26. Again, a look of shock comes over him. He tells me he is in awe of my views on life. That he, at 72 and myself at 26 think very similar. I ask if he believes in reincarnation and explain that my soul has been around the block a time or two, or twenty. With this he responds "I am atheist." I smile, explaining that I too was an atheist once. Time is going by and Kent is trying to get Sid's attention (The other gentlemen on the other side of the square) It's time to go on now. We've done our jobs for the day He says. They invite me to coffee and the three of us meet at McDonald's. Apparently, according to Kent, Sig is a cheapskate and likes the senior citizen discount coffee. I smile, we sit at a large round table. Just the three of us. I discover that Sig is a retired Lutheran Minister.

Here I am, a person searching for spiritual enlightenment, sitting with a retired Lutheran minister and an atheist. There was a wide variety of discussion. With 3 hearing impaired individuals nearly yelling across the table to each other we are obtaining looks from every angle of the restaurant. Maybe it was seeing a 26 year old young woman proudly and confidently sitting at the table with two 70 something year old men, maybe it was the topic of how our world is going down fast, and none of us we're afraid to be the black sheep. Nevertheless, I find myself, for the first time in my life, simpy listening instead of talking. Hearing stories of war, stories of love, stories of family. I believe Kent and Sig enjoyed my company immensely. Having someone to share the same ole stories to. Someone who's never heard them. Someone who is intrigued and listening intently.

This entry is not what I intended it to be. Nevertheless, I learned something this day. Well, I learned a few things really.

1. Always listen to that voice in you're head, you'll be amazed where it takes you.
2. While I do not support War and I firmly believe there are other ways around it, I do support the human lives that are fighting it, living it, breathing it, and will forever do the three. I understand that in this day and age, unfortunately we have brought so much hate and anger in the world, that War is inevitable. Eventually, good will be at war with evil. (if this war hasn't yet started) It is a part of life, even though I hate it.
3. Most importantly, learn to listen. Listen between the words you are hearing. It's amazing what you can learn.


Cheers till next time. This post was a bit rushed, seeing as I've got to start getting ready for work. Unfortunately, a Gypsy's gotta eat too :D