Sparks

Gimme Shelter

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page.

Gimme Shelter

By William Frank Hulse III 

When we’re watching a movie from the comfort of our recliners, relaxed and mellow, my bride will become frustrated when the hero does something physically impossible.

For me it’s the magic of movies. I don’t believe it for a second, but the scenes are fun and allow me to freestyle through the adventure.

Since I almost always immerse myself in a character, I want to enjoy moments of charmed innocence, believing everything I see and hear and feel.

 It has a gauzy sheer that stays in place, even when the curtains go up. It helps give the events an element of reality that only lasts until the closing credits roll. When Nancy gets uptight about the science friction, I remind her, “Suspend your disbelief.”

I enjoy being drawn into the story. It is surely escapist, in the best sense of the word. It distracts me from the realities that loom on the horizon or are present and accounted for, clamoring for my attention – begging me to worry or fret. Not fair!

I cannot solve all of the world’s problems; I can barely keep my own from bubbling over and scalding me with their persistent demands on my attention. And, I’m healthy! What a terrible price life inflicts if I can’t escape its anxieties for a time. But I can do better than escape. I can withdraw from the fray and enjoy sanctuary.

It’s not like the escapist and vicarious enjoyment of some wild movie or book. It’s that still, quiet haven where I can preen – clear out the dust and grime and parasites and align my feathers so that I can fly again – better yet, soar again.

There is a completely blue sky this morning. Try as I may, I can’t find that shade of blue in my box of crayons but when I close my eyes, it is shining brightly in my mind’s eye.

And that sun, oh, that sun, is shining even brighter.

I will soar again and warm my soul – but I’ll remember not to fly too close to the sun. My crayons might melt.

I wonder what color would emerge from 48 crayons. That will keep me guessing and smiling at that wonderment. It’s not something I see into my immediate future, but I do plan to get a jar of bubbles and watch that tiny miracle unfold and then make tiny pops to end their flight.

There now, isn’t that better. A moment of examination and another of reflection to set the stage and allow me to wend my way on this soul’s passage, right here and right now. Namaste…

William Frank Hulse III is a native Oklahoman, born and raised in the Indian Cowboy Oilman community of Pawhuska. He began his college career at Central State College in Edmond but enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1968. While serving in the military Frank completed his undergraduate degree with the University of Maryland. Upon his return to civilian life in 1975, Frank was employed by Phillips Petroleum Company for almost 30 years. Since retiring he plays guitar and writes.

Note From Marlene: You are welcome to comment on this story on my Writers Forum Facebook Page.

Please follow and like us:
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram