paradise

paradise, that was the name of the guy who rear-ended me on one of those 6 lane roads outside the perimeter.  paradise, but spelled differently.  just a fender bender- no one hurt- the literal intersection of lives.

today i went running, finally, after 6 months of abstinence.  it was good for the mind, hard for the body, but necessary for both.  when i ran and looked down, my skinny legs jiggled- like the skin was tired of holding everything in there- like 'what do you expect we've been walking for 40 years'.  i think its surprising because my kids bodies are so fresh and put together- there skin is still working in unison with their muscles.  i think as you age your parts separate and claim their own- and it's only exercise that helps keep them together- functioning  as a unit.  so i ran and vowed to keep running.

i always see things differently when i run- it moves me into stillness.  today i felt the pavement, and my shoes, and my bones and my joints and my lungs a little bit- but what i really felt was the hill.  it's not much of a hill, unless you're running up it.  one of those long, slow-rise types.  i thought about how when you drive you don't notice the hills that others are running up.  the world feels flatter, even, easy.  but for the runner, biker, sweat-er, heavy breather, they are felt. and it made me think about life- how our perspective can keep us from understanding each other- how we can ignore other people's hills.  but also how quickly it can change.  and how it can change in a moment- with one action- one conversation- one biopsy result- one glance down while driving.

on that road up north of the city today it was trafficy and there were lots of lights and SUVs and the car in front of me broke quickly for the car in front of it, and the car in front of it, etc for the traffic light had turned.  i broke quickly too, and was thankful that i had enough room- that i wasn't distracted by some thing or on the phone.  i heard a big screech and looked in my mirror to see the guy behind me gripping his steering wheel and hit us.  it was a loud noise and zoe screamed.  she was really freaked out- crying and talking a lot about how she didn't feel safe anymore- how we could have been killed- (which we couldn't have for the record).  my first thought was,  "oh crap! who's going to pick up bryn? followed by- what a pain in the bootie to have to deal with getting the car fixed!"

mr. paradise (spelled differently) was driving a beat up old car that looked a lot more beat up after crashing into us.  things were leaking and falling off his car, and neither of us had the updated insurance information in with us- so we're both on the phone- and zoe is crying on the side of the road. 
his car was filled with soda cans and paper and tools in disarray, and his notebook filled with penciled estimates- he must do handy work or carpentry- i wondered if he'd be late for his job that afternoon- if he'd lose that day's income- or worse, if that would be the last straw, and he'd lose the job. i wondered what his day had been, why his wife was so mad, how many times had this happened- looking at his car.  i wondered how this for him, for them, could be a tipping point- but i don't know.  i just wished i could have done something for him- gone back in time- reversed it- not given him one more thing to deal with.

i couldn't get over his name- what is in a name? paradise.  and how it must feel to have a name like that- with so much in it- on a day that feels like hell.

i kept thinking about the run and the hills and how it seemed like he's been running up more of them lately than i have. and i felt bad for him, for the fact that his day has been harder than mine .  and now here, today , our lives had intersected.  maybe it means nothing- maybe it's just a random - fender-bender on another large almost highway in another strip mall section of middle america. 

but his name was paradise- and it gave me pause.