Road Signs

Following road signs. Some are easy to spot. Like the "road closed" sign I came upon when I was making my way today to the University of Minnesota Wilson Library. I was on foot (I had taken the light rail the two whole stops to Cedar/Riverside station) and found it easy enough to navigate around the fairly complicated road construction that was happening in that area. And thank god I didn't drive--I would most assuredly have gotten lost! It was such a relief not to drive: I could walk and look at a map--a real map!--not the small font, one-step-at-a time smart phone maps that drive me (and anyone who happens to be in the nearby vicinity) crazy.  Even with a map, though, I wasn't so terribly efficient in my path to the library (thank you U of M for allowing me a "special privileges" library card so that I could check out books and finish that final syllabus for class!), but I got to feel a little like a tourist and see more interesting parts of the city (I may actually get downtown this week--slowly but surely!).

Other road signs are more subtle. I've been thinking about road signs and sign posts because I'm trying to walk in awareness (and other new-agey activities), being mindful of what is available to me--practice receiving (see previous blog on accepting help) all that is available to me, from friends, family, strangers, the seen and unseen universe. I think if I did this more while I was driving I would be a safer driver. And maybe remembered where I was going or how I got there, or where I parked the dang car (yes, I forget sometimes).  Okay, call me crazy, but I really believe that if you open yourself up to possibilities, if you practice awareness, any and all things can happen--the beauty (and pain and tragedy and sweetness and joy) of the world is so much more available to us when we just pay attention. I guess the trouble is, that sometimes the truth of the world seems too painful to bear. But we only think it is.

When I first got off the train, I saw these housing structures.

And this local theater.

The neighborhood around this part of the University is really fascinating. The train station itself was understated (unlike the E. Lake station where I got on the train). And almost everyone waiting at the Cedar/Riverside station was Somalian. On my walk to the UM Library I came across numerous African, West African, Mediterranean, and Asian restaurants and coffee shops. I started to feel like Garrison Keillor, who kind of represents Minneapolis or at least most of Minnesota as not particularly urbane, had misled me a bit. Or perhaps I haven't paid close enough attention. I have found that, so far, almost all of the parts of Minneapolis and St. Paul (lest it be forgotten!) have interesting and urbane elements.

At the end of the day, my daughter and I road our bikes to the YWCA. We spotted this car in the parking lot--it's covered with stuff. Plates and figurines and cups and all kinds of doodads. It has painted on its rear window: "Buy some stuff and glue it to your car."

The interesting thing about this car and how it was situated in the parking lot: I couldn't take a picture of it without the sun overexposing my shot. Or, in another reading, no matter how I look at this vehicle, it is bathed in light. Talk about a road sign!