Overlooked

January 18th, 2011. Around 1630 hours.

I had parked my roommate's truck at the school where the auditions took place. The previous day, the director of the play had asked me to meet with him in person to acquire my copy of the script. From the day I accepted the part, to the time of this meeting, I had contemplated abandoning the role. I had weighed the pros and cons of staying on-board and they looked less than desirable. When I spoke with him, I had discussed a number of issues that would conflict with my participation. To be honest, I think I was trying to talk my way out of the performance. To say that the director silenced or blew off my concerns would be stating it politely. There was also the pressure of burdening the director, and the other members of the play, with having to fill my part on short notice.  Reluctantly, I accepted my responsibility to these strangers and to the part that no one wanted. Disheartened, I began the lengthy trip back home.

Earlier that day.

Towards the end of my work day, I had been called into the office of my friend and manager, Bob Wietrzykowski (don't bother trying to pronounce it). We had discussed my annual review and he had succeed at making my rebellious comments sound productive on paper. Afterward, we spoke in length about our writing endeavors. He told me about a screenplay he once developed and I laughed hysterically at the genius of his humor. He complimented my ability to pick up on the subtle nature of the comedic scenes in his work. I confided in him that I envied his ability to deliver significant information through subtle hints and minor, yet important, details.

Bob then shared a useful tool that would assist me in my own work. He told me, that the next time I find myself driving on a familiar road, to pull over, exit the vehicle, and stare at the ground. From this exercise, I will learn how to develop my writing style through the use of subtle hints and relevant details.

Later. Driving from meeting the director.

I drove down a long stretch of road just a few miles north of Luke Air Force Base. I was weighed down by thoughts of things I felt angry with. It had occurred to me then that this road would be my way home for the remainder of my time with the play. On a whim, I pulled over next to a large vegetated field. I got out the truck and began to stare at the ground as my friend Bob had suggested. To anyone else this act would seem strange, but I immediately saw what Bob had meant about seeing things differently. My eyes focused, as if for the first time, with distinct clarity. I observed the different shapes and sizes of the rocks on the ground; one of the rocks looked like a crystal, there was a small rubber tube and a cigarette butt. I picked up the trail of a truck and footprints. My mind raced with the sight of a new world that I was seeing for the first time. I could have spent all day taking in every detail around me that I would have otherwise carelessly driven past. I felt moved by this new sight. Breaking my attention away from this new world, I felt the heaviness of worry and hate dissipate. I calmly got back into the vehicle and drove home in a peaceful, and silent bliss.