Other Thoughts | BulgingButtons

My car got an owie in the parking lot at school. Someone was distracted and, well, wouldn’t you know it, now there’s a blemish on my vehicle.

It’s kind of a scrape, more than a scratch. It’s not exactly a ding (more of a dang), and it isn’t truly a dent. I think owie is the best word to describe it.

My car has plenty of miles on it, and quite a few years as well. Sort of like me. It still works great, though, and it’s paid for. Frankly, I like it, even if it is a bit past its prime. It’s solid. Reliable. And I feel safe in it, at least most of the time. When I don’t, though, it’s not the car’s fault. It’s the maniacs who are whizzing past me, or worse, stomping on their brakes for no apparent reason. Those people, sheesh!

So now there’s all this stuff to do to get it repaired. Thank goodness for insurance. It’s remarkable how many phone calls and emails have already gone whizzing back and forth, and it hasn’t even gotten to the shop yet.

My poor car. It’s been so good to me over the years. It’s seen me through three moves, two schools for me, four schools for my son, and several road trips to Vegas, California, and all over Arizona. It deserves to look as good as it possibly can, given its elder car status.

It may not be a classic, but it’s what I’ve got, and I want to take care of it. I can’t wait until this process wraps up, and I no longer have to see my dear car sporting its nasty owie.

Meaning the very opposite of what it sounds like.

Let me explain. The phrase “my world” usually means the world in which you live. The actual spaces you inhabit. It also means the day to day experiences you encounter. So I inhabit the world of my neighborhood, my community, my school (workplace), my city, state, and nation. I also inhabit the world of mom of a college student, fourth grade teacher, suburbanite, dog mom, fiancée, blogger, and more.

We all inhabit multiple worlds.

Those worlds, however, aren’t what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the great big wide world which I mostly haven’t seen or visited. I certainly haven’t inhabited it. But I do welcome it, and I do claim it.

I claim it because it is as much mine as it is anyone’s. It belongs to all or us and none of us. It is our big wide world, and I’m glad you’re in it with me.

There are eyes on my words around this planet we inhabit. Someone in South Africa reads my words, and shares her thoughts. Another in the Bahamas shares the experience of raising a young man, and we have a bond. We feel connected because something larger than each of us is at play. We may or may not have anything in common, but somehow you’ve found me, and I find that particularly marvelous, so I want to shout from the rooftoop, Welcome, Welcome to you all!