This is the fourth of a series of blogs from Upside Down Joy.
On an early fall day, one of my favorite times in New York, I was sitting at my desk in our ministry center in the South Bronx. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large creature with a long tail, whiskers on her nose, and two large ears. It wasn’t a rat; it was a mule. Although this is not an unfamiliar sight to a country boy, in the middle of the concrete jungle, it certainly caught my attention.
A red wagon followed behind this mule. On the side of the wagon, written in white, cursive letters was the word “Footloose.” Walking across the street to the community garden where the wagon came to a stop, I introduced myself to the couple who were busy unhitching their mule. Their names were Bud and Patricia. The mule’s name was Della. She was accompanying her owners around the U.S. and eventually around the world. Why such a journey? I found the answer to this question in a book of poetry they had written:
We get asked all the time why we’re traveling. Some folks think we must have something to prove. Lots of people expect us to be out here promoting something, while others think it’s a personal quest that keep us on the move. But actually what we’re doing is really much simpler than all that. We’re not searching, or proving, or promoting any cause or code. We just wanted to slow down our lives and take the time to see the world from different sides of the road. (Kenny, Bud. From This Side of the Road).
They wanted to slow down their lives and take time to see.
Of course, the mere act of looking doesn’t mean a person will see. Two people may look at the same thing yet see it differently. I take pleasure in finding hole-in-the-wall restaurants off the beaten path of tourists in New York City. Often that means trying diverse ethnic cuisines. I will try any restaurant or type of food at least once. Almost everything I try I like. A cow-tongue taco whets my appetite.
Not everyone looks upon that long, spongy slab of bovine offal with the same pleasure.
I consider myself a connoisseur of food. The same can’t be said of art. I have tried to like art. I have walked around the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Museum of Modern Art and looked at the paintings. Despite having little personal artistic ability—I can’t even draw a stick figure well—I can appreciate the artistic skill found in many of the paintings. Nevertheless, I honestly can say I don’t understand the aesthetics of most visual art. That isn’t a reflection of the art itself. That’s a reflection of me, my perceptions, my knowledge, and my understanding.
Similarly, the way I view everyday life is not a reflection of life itself; it’s a reflection of my mindset. In order to see different, I have to think different.
Jesus helps me think differently. He helps me see things upside down.