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Maggie Carter
Beautiful Noise
September, 2005
I hate motorcycles. Not the
seething kind of hate but hate nonetheless. They make too much noise. I
especially hate Harleys. They make more noise and supposedly people
like it that way. The louder the better, I've heard. I've never been
able to figure that out.
I prefer bicycles. On a
bicycle I can hear the birds sing and streams cascade over rocks. I can
actually feel a gentle breeze against my face. I've been on a
motorcycle. The bugs collided against my face and the wind was so
strong I couldn't move the muscles in my face and I could hear nothing
except the sound of the engine.
On a recent visit to my
dentist he jokingly suggested that I should ride my bicycle down to the
Harley convention and trade my bicycle in for a Harley. Hundreds of
Harley's would be in town. I could feel a huge "NOT" arise in me and my
judgments of Harley's bubble up. I also realized that since there were
so many Harley's in town I might encounter them on my weekend ride in
the country. I wondered where I could go to avoid them.
As I rode out in the country
that Saturday I had completely forgotten about those noisy things. I
found myself taking a route I don't normally take. I looked to my right
and saw a stream of Harley's heading the opposite direction I was going
to ride. It was timed perfectly for me to miss them. I thanked God for
leading me away from them. I felt blessed and grateful. I didn't have
to listen to the awful noise.
About 45 minutes later as I
headed towards home I noticed a large gathering at a country
convenience store. I had never seen this many people here before. It
seemed like a hundred people were looming up ahead. And yes, they each
had a Harley. It seems they had all stopped for a break. As I rode up
on my bike I heard one of the guys yell out to the others, "Ready to
go?" Many yelled back in the affirmative and I realized that they would
be leaving soon and that they would ALL be heading in my direction. A
scream of, "Oh No." pierced my brain and the peace I had been
experiencing. Just in case, I yelled out, "Which way are you going?" A
couple of them pointed in my direction and I laughed. If I had arrived
at this spot only five minutes later I would have missed them!!
I rode on and in under a
minute I could hear them coming. Then, it occurred to me. It was
another opportunity to thank God. I had thanked God for sending me in a
different direction so I didn't have to hear them the first time. Could
I now thank God for putting me in a place where I would now be forced
to hear them? Could I thank God, no matter what happened?. I gave it
try. I asked God to help me love them as they passed instead of hating
them. Might as well, they were coming no matter what I did and it was
worth giving the experiment a try.
Then I had the thought that I
should count each one as it passed - just so I could tell others how
many I had to listen to and how miserable it was. It would make a great
story of endurance for my fellow cycling friends. They began whizzing
past me and the counting quickly ended. And instead, to my surprise, I
noticed that they weren't as loud as I had anticipated. It was the
first of many surprises to come in the next few minutes. I began to
notice each one as it passed. Although each was a Harley I noticed that
each was different and each held a wonderful surprise. Different
colors, different styles and different riders with colorful clothing,
one with a side cart carrying a dog. All of the riders were smiling and
enjoying their trip as much as I was enjoying mine. A few of them waved
and I waved back.
In less than five minutes
they were gone and the silence of the country scene was restored. What
I noticed next surprised me the most - I missed them! I missed the
"beautiful noise" that they made, the sites of each cycle and the
people on them, the joy that they were having. And in that noticing I
found tears streaming down my face. I couldn't imagine why I would be
crying after this seemingly simple, short encounter. It was gratitude.
Gratitude for being capable of turning hate into love through a simple
request and finding joy and appreciation on the other side.
I don't think I'll ever see a Harley in the same way again. They make a "beautiful noise" I have learned.
Is it that easy to transform
hate into love I wondered? If so, why is it that I still hold on to
anger and resentment at times when love is so easily accessible? I am
hoping that this simple encounter will teach me more about the magic of
love.
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