My New Chair

Sadly, or maybe not, there is coming a time in life when I place greater value on comfort than on excitement…or the adrenalin rush of physical activity. Yes, I still have endorphins – they’re perhaps a little slower in their transit through my system and seem to be activated more by stopping than starting. But, what the hell, an endorphin is and endorphin any way you cut it. I’ve got plenty and I feel great!

Last week I was reminded, quite by accident, of this wonderful aspect of aging. I found a symbol of my sanctuary of quiet, slow introspection. My New Chair. I loved this chair – I couldn’t have a better one if I designed and built it myself. How I came posses it is peculiar – a wonderful reminder of the synchronicity that winds through the fabric of our lives.

Andrea and I drove to the store last week. We live on a small island off the mainland of British Columbia. There’s never far to go and there’s not much we haven’t seen.

On the way back home, she said suddenly, “Let’s keep driving for a while. Maybe we’ll find some place we haven’t seen yet.”

“Good idea.” I felt her intuition was saying something. This is one of her many abilities for which I have great respect.

So we kept driving, past our home and on down the main road that serves this island. Five or so miles later there was an intersection to the left. I turned and followed a winding road that ended abruptly at the water’s edge. We turned around and headed back – then another intersection we had missed o the way down.

“Turn here,” Andrea said, “turn left.”

Obediently, I swerved to the left and followed this new, undiscovered road stretched out before us. It was narrow but paved and seemed to parallel the coast. There were a number of discrete driveway entrances on one side which we surmised led to expensive waterfront homes – none of which we could see though.

We neared the end after another mile or so and looked for a way back to the main road. It was then we noticed something very strange to the left. Back beyond the narrow shoulder resting comfortably in the high grass was a large, extremely comfortable-looking swivel rocker – the old Lazy Boy with a stick that raises the footrest. It was love at first sight!

I stopped the car, got out and approached it with awe. It was beige and overstuffed with a corduroy-like velour covering. In the seat was a piece of cardboard with the word “Free” hand written in black magic-marker.

I looked at Andrea. She shrugged. “Why not? Why don’t you try it out?”

Slowly I approached it. I had no idea how long it had been there. Perhaps it had sat for weeks on this lonely stretch of road. I carefully looked underneath the rocker for snakes. Nothing. There were a few stains and wear marks – cosmetic really – superficial indicators of wear. I appreciate that.

Gracefully, I lowered myself into its soft seat. It welcomed me with joy and acceptance. It was a perfect fit – we must have been made for each other.

“Andrea, try the chair!” She shook her head smiling with that knowing look, always a good sport.

“We need this for the living room.” I stated with what was hopefully an objective and dispassionate tone.

She agreed with such grace and style.

“Can we get it in the Honda?” she asked.

“Of course.” I said without the slightest idea how. It was a Honda Civic after all. The two of us struggled with this beast – it weighed a ton and just wanted to rotate around – it was a true swivel but not real workable or cooperative to two seniors trying to wrestle it into the trunk. We got a piece of it in – but that was it. Way too much chair for that little car.

As we each held a side of the chair trying to figure out what to do next, a lady in a late model SUV drove by and stopped, leaning out the window. “So you’re going to take the chair?” she stated politely but with a trace of relief.

I nodded with kind of a goofy smile. I felt an irrational urge to tell her I was a college graduate – not some homeless bum scrounging her neighbor’s throw-aways. “Yes” I answered with quiet reservation. “It was free.” I added for no apparent reason.

With only the back of the rocker in the trunk we had no way to get it home. If only we had some rope or a bungi cord….

“Why don’t you use this bungi cord?” Andrea asked. She had miraculously found one inside. I secured it and the chair was secured to the car - although somewhat precariously. I was about to leave gently taking our newly prized possession to its new home when Andrea said, “Wait!”

She jumped back out of the car and found the cardboard free sign. On it’s back she wrote with her ballpoint pen: “Thank you!”

Pure class.

We drove home at about 5 km/hr with a long line of cars behind us by the time we reached our driveway. No one was angry though. They must have realized that we had found a treasure. We were supported by all – especially the Universe. Isn’t strange how, just when you ask, somehow, if the intent is strong, the answer is right there.

I love my new chair.

Harry

Chapter One

Harry’s Dilemma

The frozen arctic landscape was cold and inhospitable…bleak and barren to the eyes of a foreigner. But to Harry, an arctic polar bear, the scene before him instilled a sense of belonging and pride. He never tired of watching the endless expanse of pure white snow rising in the distance to form massive hills and ridges. He watched the ever-changing texture of the snow cover, molded and shaped by constantly changing arctic winds.

Harry had lots of time to observe his surroundings as he spent hours every day sitting near that telltale hole in the ice he instinctively knew to be an air hole for the many seals swimming below. He knew they would eventually have to breathe; he waited patiently watching the hole for the first signs of bubbles.

Harry was alone in his quest for dinner. He sometimes spent all day waiting and watching. These lonely times provided many opportunities to reflect on what it meant to be a polar bear. He was taught that from the beginning that polar bears are the biggest and fiercest of all bears…they fear no other creature. He knew his status in the tribe depended on toughness, competitiveness, physical abilities…all the characteristics of animal strength and dominance. Harry aspired to be all those things and more. And he wanted to please his parents, of course, for they were the ones who first inspired him with his greatness. He was also terribly aware of his peers and how he stacked up next to them. And, most of all, he saw that the strongest had their choice of mates. This was very important to an adolescent polar bear.

So Harry became all these things and more. He was naturally big (pushing half a ton!), was pretty athletic. He walked with a bit of a swagger. The girls loved him; his parents were so proud. How fortunate Harry was to be blessed with such genes!

But Harry was troubled…unfulfilled…restless and anxious. He gazed into the frozen horizon and was so taken by the beauty of the light – the way it constantly changed as the sun moved across the sky. Tears of appreciation formed and quickly froze as they fell. He marveled at the thousands of sparkling lights dancing before him, reflections from ice and snow crystals…how they changed, furiously beckoning him to follow them to another world. Harry wondered about that world. He felt inspired…touched by a force he couldn’t understand but somehow knew to be real. And, with these thoughts, he felt ashamed. He was not a real polar bear…he was a fraud. Polar bears should not feel such emotions.

In spite of his shame, Harry began to draw images in the snow. He felt compelled…overpowered, in fact, to express his feeling somehow in a concrete format. Slowly his claw formed a symbol that represented an emotion, an observation…a creative thought. That, in turn, led to another symbol and, before he knew it, Harry had expressed a feeling that was dying to get out…to be shared. Momentarily, Harry felt incredible joy. He had somehow connected with this beautiful force that surrounded him and, in the process, connected with himself. There is so much more to life, he thought with great peace and joy. Quickly Harry obliterated his creation with a wave of his massive paw. No one can see this! Somehow I must contain these feelings, this blissful state for, if I’m discovered, I’ll surely lose the status I’ve worked so hard to acquire.

And so Harry lamented his dilemma – how to maintain the integrity of his polar bear manhood in the personality and soul of a sensitive and creative being. He longed to find other outlets for the passion of life stirring within him but was deathly afraid of being discovered and thought of as being less than polar bear-like.

I was like Harry. My priorities were upside down. For a large part of my life, I ignored the music inside and focused instead on maintaining the manhood image…the shell of protection and deceit. The quest for acceptance was king and I suffered as a result…as did others around me. Next , maybe I’ll take a closer look at Harry’s dilemma and examine how he might break free of the tribal bonds of conformity.

Chapter Two
Harry’s Delusion

Harry sat dejected in the cold artic landscape. “Forget it,” he thought to himself. Polar bears are meant to hunt and kill. They need to be aggressive and tough…it’s expected of them. He scrubbed out any trace of his previous creative endeavor from the snow and resumed his practice of doing push-ups to occupy his time…and mind.

He finished his first set of 2400 and then started on his sit-up routine. He hated doing this stuff but knew it to be a necessary component of the macho life. Even though his muscles were covered by thick white hair, it gave Harry confidence to know he was carrying six-pack-abs below. He could swagger. He had the equipment for it. He practiced walking around the ice hole. He was trying to perfect the John Wayne style that was proving very successful for him.

“Chicks love this,” he thought ignoring how silly he looked prancing around the ice hole. It would all be worth it…he hoped.

On the next ridge a group of three female bears watched Harry from behind an ice shelf. They chattered excitedly among themselves knowing they were having a rare opportunity to watch a young macho stud perform, uninhibited by the knowledge he was being watched.

“Oh..ahmawyee god!” Shelia exclaimed breathlessly. She was a cheerleader and appreciated athletic movement. Rhonda nodded in agreement. Eloise stood and stared in rapt appreciation.

“That’s Harry. He’s so cute. Look at him strut. Why is he going around in circles? Should we talk to him?” The giggling continued as they worked up their confidence to show themselves.

Meanwhile, Harry continued his swagger around the ice hole, unaware that he was being observed.

“Man, am I bored.” Harry thought with frustration. Sadly, he remembered the momentary joy he felt at the thought of drawing in the snow. He shut his eyes tightly trying to block out these creative and unmanly thoughts. He felt his abs again and felt slightly better…but still bored.

Suddenly, Harry saw the three females walking down the hill towards him. “Oh, shit! They must have seen me working out and practicing.” This was not good. Harry had to create the illusion that his strength and swagger came naturally.

“Hi Harry!” Eloise blinked her eyes seductively. “What are you doing?”

Harry stammered briefly. Then roared. He always did that when he was flustered. It was a defense mechanism that never failed him. The girls stepped back quickly.

“Catching seals, of course.” He replied. He struck his hunter pose. They all loved it.

“How many have you caught?” Rhonda asked.

“Several.” Harry lied. “What brings you ladies out here?”

Shelia replied. “Why, we’re just out for a walk…checking out the neighborhood…you know what I mean?” She was the aggressive one. Harry could all tell they were interested in getting to know him better. Mating season was starting soon; he knew he was on a lot of lists.

Sensing their interest in him, Harry relaxed. He observed them critically: all not bad looking. Anyone would be proud to be seen with them…particularly Shelia. She was hot. Harry winked at her…she smiled back seductively. It was so easy. Thank god for those sit-ups.

But Harry felt no connection with any of them. It was more like a game than a mating ritual. As they stood together conversing as young polar bears do, Harry felt the boredom, the futility of all that he was. They just wanted to be seen with him…like some status symbol. They didn’t care about who he was inside…just what he looked like and what he could do for them. His interest waned further. Intuitively, the females retreated. Harry excused himself.

“Have to get back to my hunting.” He said without conviction.

The females nodded and moved on. Harry watched them move away slowly. He was sadder than ever. Unconsciously, he began doodling again in the snow, breathing quietly, waiting for the signs of bubbles from below.

Lost in thought, alone on the frozen tundra, Harry let his imagination roam. Quickly the doodle took form and shape. Again, Harry felt the enormous joy and satisfaction of the creative spirit that was in him. It was his dark secret. One he would protect forever but one he could chose to exercise whenever he was alone.

“What’s that, Harry?” a quiet female voice from behind startled him. She had come out of nowhere. What would he do now…now that he had been discovered…and exposed?

Chapter Three

Harry’s Discovery

“Oh god!”, Harry exclaimed to himself. “I’ve been exposed as an unmanly fraud!”

He stared in desguised horror at the young female who had approached him from behind without warning. Harry was so engrossed in the picture he was creating in the ice and snow that he had totally lost sight of where he was.

What joy he was experiencing as his artistic form grew into a personal expression of the beauty he observed. As his massive paw gently shaped each line, using those sharp claws to refine and add texture, he intuitively knew that this was right. This was his truth!

Now he had been discovered by a female who would surely blab this all around the polar bear community…just at the time when his macho character was becoming firmly entrenched with his peers. Shit!

“What’s that, Harry?” she repeated.

“Nothing.” Harry responded sullenly as his giant frame eased across his artwork in a feeble attempt to conceal it. He felt foolish lying prostrate over his creation, spread-eagled in the snow looking up at her in dismay. It was pitiful.

“Actually, it’s a diagram of a system I’m using to catch more seals,” he lied. Then he growled for no apparent reason other than to reacquire some of his pride.

“Well, whatever it was, It’s beautiful! You shouldn’t be lying on it. You’ll squash it and then it it’ll be ruined.”

“Hell, I don’t care. It was nothing.” Harry rolled over on his back rubbing his shoulders against his artwork, forever obliterating what, only a few moments before, had given him more satisfaction than anything else he had ever done.

“What’s your name? Do you know me? Are you gonna tell?”

“I’m Gretchen,” she answered somewhat hesitantly. “”And, of course I know you. Everyone knows you. You’re somewhat of a rock star in our community. And what’s to tell?”

Gretchen was one of the few females who had never shown much interest in Harry, mainly because she found him a little boring. The way he strutted around, prancing and growling, intimidating anyone who approached him. She found this behavior very uninteresting.

Now, quite by accident, she had discovered another part of Harry that no one else knew. And she found it very attractive. Here was a man with sensitivity and style, a gentle man who recognized beauty and longed to express it. All of this she saw in the first instant … watching him so absorbed in his creativity.

“Tell what?” Gretchen asked.

“You know…that I was drawing in the snow when I should have been watching for seal bubbles. I was only doodling.”

Harry suspected his reputation was in dire jeopardy. He should have been pacing and growling around the ice hole…but he wasn’t. Yet, somehow, Harry didn’t feel afraid of Gretchen. He had barely noticed her before. She was one of the few that didn’t seem impressed by his antics. He figured she was probably a lesbian. How else could she not find him attractive?

“Harry, whatever you were doing, it was incredible. Do you realize what you’re capable of? Why, you have a gift. You have the ability to express the love and beauty of nature like nobody else I know. But, no…I wont ‘tell’. That would be for you to do. I think our community has been waiting for someone like you though.”

Harry just stared at her defiantly. Who was she to tell him, Harry, what he had to offer. He had power. Stature. Men were envious of him…they feared him. Women flocked to him seeking to have some of this power.

Why did he feel so attracted to her? She obviously wanted none of what he had to offer. What else could he give her? Surly not his doodling. Yet he sensed that there may well be something deeper within him that could appeal to the right person. Gretchen might be one. She looked deeper than what he projected on the surface. She looked into his soul…and liked what she saw!
Harry’s eyes softened as he looked back.

“Really?” he asked sheepishly.

“Really.”

Gretchen liked this new Harry – the one she had never seen. She was tired of being constantly pursued by the macho contingent. She knew she had a lot to offer any of them but chose to remain aloof. She figured Harry to be just another stutter…another big talker…another guy trying to hide all his fears in a charade of patriarchy.

She looked back into Harry’s eyes. His defenses were gone now. He was open, no longer afraid. There was a hint of playfulness in those sparkling eyes… a hint of humor…and a host of other characteristics that she figured were dying to come out. He smiled for the first time.

She smiled back.

“It’s okay, Harry. Let’s just sit and talk for a while. I’ll help you watch for seal bubbles.”

Harry felt a joy he had never known. Someone seemed to like him for who he really was. No airs or fronts necessary.

“I wonder where this is going?” he thought.

Chapter Four

Harry’s Awakening

Harry lay down, his head swimming with the realization that he had something to offer the world besides a growl and a John Wayne swagger. He lay down on his back with his head resting on an ice pilow. He stared quietly ahead while Gretchen stood patiently at his side.

His right paw scratched at the snow absently as his mind tried to comprehend the enormity of what Gretchen was saying. Could she be right? Do I have other gifts to offer? If so, why am I so afraid of them?

Harry sighed deeply forming a hugh vapor cloud above them. It quickly crystalized in the cold air and fell as a twinkling cloud of white dust. Gretchen watched the millions of ice crystals settle over them knowing that Harry was releasing a belief that had been hammered into his young head practally from the day he was born. She remained quiet so that Harry could think. Softly she gazed toward the frozen horizen.

Harry thought about his emense popularity. He was envied by all the males and sought after by all the females…well, most of them. He had everything a young polar bear could want: looks, physical size, a dynamic personality. He thought he had it all, at least all the important things. Now this Gretchen comes out of nowhere and tells him none of that is important. She says he has a gift – an ability to express beauty – and that others might feel the same joy from his expressions that he feels in creating them.

Wow! How radical.

Gretchen continued to watch Harry struggle with this new concept of himself. She was careful not to push too hard. It was a concept Harry would have to discover on his own. She could only suggest from her perspective. He had to do the rest.

After a very long time Harry finally broke the silence. “Tell me about yourself, Gretchen. What makes you so smart? How do you really know that I have a gift?”

Gretchen smiled back warmly. “I saw what you were making. I watched you for several minutes as you were working. I saw the expression of joy on you face as your creation took shape.”

“You were spying on me?” Harry was aghast.

“No. You just happened to be where I was going. I didn’t sneak up on you – you just couldn’t hear me. You were so engrossed in what you were doing that a caribou stampede wouldn’t have distracted you!”

“So, what makes you an expert?”

“I’m not. I just know what I like.”

“And what would that be?”

“I like honesty, sincerity and sensitivity for starters.” Gretchen shot back.

“I’m honest,” Harry responded with a defensive whine.

“Are you? Why are you always strutting around like you’ve been sitting on the ice too long…with that silly expression to boot.”

Wait just a damn minute, Harry thought to himself. I’m Harry, the Polar Bear. Women love me. Who is this Gretchen to imply that I’m not honest and…that I might even look foolish?“People tell me I walk like a movie star.”

“How does Harry walk?”

“The point is, Harry” Gretchen continued, “that your attractiveness comes from within – not from some phony movie star.”

“But I have a following. They all want to be around me. What do you think of that?” Harry was being just a little defensive.

“They just want your power. Is that all you have to give?”

“Isn’t that enough? Not too many have this, you know.”

“No, Harry. It’s not enough. And it will never sustain you in the long run. No one but me knows who you really are…and you want to hide that for fear others will think you’re not macho enough.”

Harry lapsed into silence again. He really liked her. What was it about her that he found so appealing? She talked back to him for one. No one ever did that. It’s, like, she saw right through him…wasn’t impressed. Damn!

Harry saw that honesty and integrity in Gretchen and found it very appealing. He liked the way she spoke directly and openly. There was a strange type of courage present in her demeanor – one that Harry found unfamiliar and puzzling.

“Okay, smartass,” he quipped playfully. “Tell me some more about what you like.”

“I like artistic expression – visual or otherwise. I like those who are not afraid to show those abilities in spite of what they might think others would say. I like bears who know themselves for what they are and are confident in there own fur.”

“What else?”

“Here’s what I don’t like: bears that come on strong because they think it’s sexy and appealing.” Gretchen made a retching motion with her paw. “You, Harry have all the potential to be really attractive to me…you just have to drop that macho bullshit.”

 Well, she is direct, Harry thought.“And how do you propose I do that?”

Gretchen stepped towards Harry with a mischievous look in her eye. “Let’s get started!”

 

Chapter Five
Harry’s Dance of Joy

Harry stepped back as Gretchen approached him. What was he afraid of?Instantly, he realized that he was vulnerable…but to what. She wasn’t going to hurt him. But she could see into him, through his thick white coat, his burley muscles, his John Wayne persona.

Harry felt defensless. He had no weapon to counteract this threat to his masculinity. His shield had been penetrated, the force was no longer with him.

“What are you doing?” He asked lamely

“Why, Harry, are you nervous? Am I too close for comfort?” With that, Gretchen moved even closer.

“No, of course not. I’m Harry the Polar Bear. Harry fears nothing!” A low defensive growl rumbled from his clenched jaws.

Gretchen stepped back. Her look said it all. No longer was there that softness around her eyes, that gentleness in her smile. Her seductive mysterfy evaporated before his eyes.

“Wait!” he stammered. “Don’t leave me!”

Gretchen stared back…waiting.

“I’m Harry…that part is true. You see this macho persona I wear like a cloak? It’s like

Superman’s cape. With it, I am the Bear of Steel. Without it, I’m nothing. I’ve never taken it off because I’m afraid of what you’ll see.”

“Why don’t you just give it a try? Let’s see what’s underneath. What do you have to lose…whatever it is, it’ll be better than what I see now – this big hairy super-sexed goofball who can only express himself with a bellow.”

Harry starred back defiantly. Gretchen held his gaze fearlessly. She wonderd what was going through his young mind. A long time passed.

Slowly, almost imperceptively, Gretchen saw the shift. First, there was a very slight softening around Harry’s eyes. The fierce defiance that danced there previously began to fade. In its place appeared a gentleness mixed with just a trace of humor. A smile slowly crept across his face.
Gretchen watched Harry’s body relax. She said nothing waiting for the transformation to continue.

A soft energy encompassed Harry. Gretchen could clearly see a beautiful tourquoise aura surround him. His smile broadened.

Gretchen smiled back.

Harry reached behind him and symbolically removed the cape that had been his source of strength and masculinity for so long. Now there was no protection…he was on his own. What really existed inside him? He didn’t know and…it really didn’t matter. Intuitively, he knew it was good, had value. It was beautiful and he loved it. It was him.

“Dance with me, Harry” Gretchen said as she took his paw.

“There’s no music.”

“We’ll make our own. Can’t you hear it?”

And he did. It swirled around them in a beautiful cacophony of sound and light. The rythem was intoxicating. Harry put his arm around Gretchen and began to move with her.

Gretchen looked back. “What do you think now, Harry?”

“It sure beats walking around like John Wayne.”

It sure does.