In the midst of a campus stroll late Sunday night, two friends and I perched ourselves on the ledge of Frog Baby's fountain. We lay motionless one-by-one around the fountain's bed. Muncie was treating us to a beautifully crisp, comfortable and clear night, providing a calming atmosphere for gazing endlessly into the summer night's sky.
I have no idea what the other two were thinking, nor did I bother to ask. It was one of those moments where everyone feels on the same page, despite the varying levels of stress and race of problems running through our minds. The silence said it all. That moment was serenity.
While examining the finer points of Frog Baby's surroundings, I rolled my head briefly to the north just in time to see a streak of light shoot across the black canvass of the night. It burned out almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving us no time to acknowledge the happening until we could catch our respective breaths.
"Did you see that?," a friend said, seeking confirmation as if her mind were playing tricks on her. The second friend and I responded in affirmation. Our night had been graced by a shooting star.
Maybe it's the hopeful optimist - or brainwashed Disney child - in me, but anytime I've seen a shooting star, my mind immediately shuts down until I make a wish in my head. While I've only seen a handful of the astronomical events in my lifetime, I'm continually pulled to my highest priority concern when it comes time to send my hopes to the gods above. The wish is rarely anything practical, just seemingly critical at the time. A good exam grade. Scoring with "that someone." Hitting big money.
As the conversation with my friends took place, I began placing my order for more satisfying living conditions without even thinking about it. Midway through my inner monologue I cut myself off.
"No. Is this really what I want to spend my wish on?" I internally questioned myself as if I was I were playing a selection game on "The Price is Right." I retracted my thoughts from whoever was listening (me) and quickly shuffled my mental cards. Suddenly I felt pressured to make a decision like a clock was ticking and an audience was watching.
When that moment comes, what do you wish for?
Behold my exaggerated stream of consciousness:
"Health? Love? Sex? Peace? Starbucks? I shouldn't be selfish, I should care for others. Well, others have their own wishes, screw them. Well, that's not nice. No, but the world isn't nice. Well, maybe I should wish to change the world? Yeah, but that won't happen. True - so I should wish for Barack Obama to become president. Swing! What about my family? What about my friends? Well, they're voting for Obama, too. Ah, good point. Big Bucks! Big Bucks! No whammies! Hey that cloud kind of looks like President Gora ..."
I'd tell you what I wished for, but in the theory of how wishes come true (See: Wikipedia!), that would make my request null and void. My hope is that it affects more than myself, but that's all reliant on the wish being granted in the first place.
Each day we struggle to internally prioritize problems and find a resolve to them. Some are tiny tragedies; others are concerns that practically bring our lives to a screeching halt. We say little prayers in hope our respective God is listening. We make little promises that it'll be "just this once." We look for hope in all sorts of ways to achieve things we feel we are otherwise incapable of doing. Some might argue these wishes are nothing more than subconscious attempts at boosting our determination.
Shooting stars are not the answer to life's problems and may very well have no influence on life as a whole. But if one wish represents our inner-most dream or concern, that's a lot of judgment to be making in a split second.
Write to Dave atheydave@bewilderedsociety.com
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