"We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls. "
- Mother Teresa
- Mother Teresa
Well, my little beasts, the movie has not yet happened -- key word -- YET. but -- I am on my way to developing it. And so, I was here still. In LA. Ready to do something -- but I didn't know what exactly what to do -- I mean, we couldn't walk because it was too late. And yet, I felt -- and Amy felt down in San Diego -- that we had to do something. Something to support the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Walkers -- during their 60 mile 3 day walk.
So, I sent out an email -- she said she'd been feeling the same way -- that we should indeed cheer them on. I was to take a train down. And we'd buy some poster board and make signs. We'd buy some candy maybe and cheer them on!
I decided to take the train and head on down to SD... The ride was what made me think of the quote I chose -- I was quiet. It was lovelier than driving a car. It was a time to read and look out the window. To write in my journal and to watch the world go by.
So often in this city because we have to drive to most places, we tune out the world around us -- we are tubed up in our cars on a slamming freeway, we turn on music or the radio or we call a friend and chat.
I do these things. Usually.
But on the train, the Surfliner, I was quiet. And I read and read and read. And I wrote and wrote and wrote.
And so, when I got down to SD, and Amy picked me up in Solana Beach and then ducked into a CVS while I sat in her car with her little son waiting, and then popped back in again with a bag of Dum Dum's, I was ready to be loud. To speak up -- and to cheer on the walkers who were braving the first stormy San Diego walk since the Susan G. Komen 3 Day began down here. It was raining and windy and in the 50's.
And these walkers -- after we'd dropped off her son and found the walkers on the route -- they walked with plastic around their sneakers and socks. They walked with colorful ponchos. They walked with baseball cops and music still playing out of their fanny packs. They walked with wet hair. And wet socks and wet sneakers. Wet pants and shirts.
They were like the Who's down in Whoville who sang without their Christmas presents.
Nothing stopped them. Their spirit. Their walk. For they were walking for something bigger than them. Bigger than the weather. Bigger than a route.
They were walking for love. They were walking for the faces on their shirts and in their hearts. They were walking for the people not yet born. They were walking for the women alongside them. They were walking for themselves.
For all of us.
And they walked and walked.
So, I thought of a slogan -- I mean, all we had was bag of dumb dumbs -- we' weren't dressed in pink and we didn't have music, we didn't have signs -- the rain would've obliterated them -- all we were was two girls in jeans and sneaks and sweatshirts with hoods and a bag of dum dums.
So... I thought of this --
"Dum Dums for Dumb Weather!"
And so, Amy and I began to say it in unison as the walkers walked by. We surprised them and ourselves with our perfectly syncopated chant.
They smiled and laughed and some of them even took Dum Dums as we passed them out. They gave us high fives and continued along their way -- with an extra spring in their step.
It felt better than most anything in life. Honestly.
It felt almost as good as walking. And that is one of my favorite things in life -- doing this walk with Amy once a year.
We slept like little babes in swaddling clothes that night... Knowing that our Dum Dums and our cheering had brought smiles and laughs.
And then, the next morning when we awakened -- I think we were the only two souls in the whole city who were bummed to see the sun -- What would we do with our winning slogan?
We sort of prayed for rain.
And then, when we finally found a place to position ourselves for the second cheering part of Day 3 of the walk, and our Day 3 -- Sunday, we placed ourselves at the bottom of the great big hill in the last stretch of the walk.
And we adjusted.
We decided to say, Dum Dums for the Dumb Hill!
And boy, we couldn't keep them in our hands -- they were flying out of them like hotcakes!
3 different groups of women asked us for photo ops -- and of course, we obliged :)
They called us The Dum Dum Girls!
They remembered us, and high fived us, they repeated our chant! We were all like one big happy wet and cold and cheering walking family!!!
They'd laugh as they walked away, when they finally heard -- above the noise of the walking -- what we'd said.
They thanked us for coming out. They. thanked. us.
And I remembered how great it felt to be doing something for someone else.
To support people believe in them -- make them laugh.
One man reminded us both of why we were there. He must've been in his 60's or early 70's even. Really healthy looking and had a great pace, seemed untouched, undaunted as he began his trek up the hill.
And Amy said to him, "Wow, you seem so relaxed. You make the hill look easy."
To which he replied, "It's easier than chemo."
No Dum Dum cheer for a minute or two. Took our breath away.
And so, my Little Beasts/Blades... I write you tonight out of gratitude. I write to you as someone who had been humbled by the women and men who walked by us and who thanked us for cheering them on.
I write as someone who wants to feed people downtown on Thanksgiving morning.
Someone who is grateful to be able to walk. To have friends like you. A dog like Gatsby. My health. Dreams that take my own breath away.
Someone who has a mom up there, in the sky, who was smiling down upon me last weekend. Knowing... that I was cheering for her.