On the 80 today, the driver of a white pickup truck gave me the finger as he passed. I wish I meant a thumbs up, but obviously I don't.
I assume that he did so because of the bumper stickers adhered to the back of my car.
They express a lot of opinions in a kind of similar wheelhouse, I think, being that that wheelhouse is mine.
Mostly they have to do with love, I think.
And so it always surprises me when people respond the way that this man has. This is not the first time this has happened, and likely won't be the last.
I'm lucky (I was going to say he is lucky, but, truly, I am lucky) that this happened while I was listening to an old On Being episode in which Krista is interviewing Mary Oliver. You know, the poet? I've gushed about her work before.
She was telling me about poetry being a "life-cherishing force" and, because of that, I am responding to his action with this, instead of anything rude or hateful in return.
Right before he passed me, she had just read "I Happened to be Standing", a poem in which she notices the sounds of prayer in the wild. And so I am going to cherish life today and focus not on him, in particular, ever again, but rather listen to prayer in the wild and pray in my natural habitat.
Because that's what Mary Oliver would have me do. Mary Oliver would not have me hold any number of fingers in the air, unless they are holding a pen.