Welcome to the Thursday Three – weekly finds for creative minds – just for you in your inbox every Thursday. If you’re reading this and not already subscribed, you can subscribe and view the Thursday Three archive here. If you're new, welcome!
“Where are you?” I asked. My eyes quickly flitted from person to person in the baggage claim area.
“We’re in baggage claim,” replied the voice on the other end of the phone.
“But – I’m in baggage claim,” I said. “And I don’t see you.”
I had flown to Tulsa, Oklahoma to visit my good friends, Zac and Karen. My other good friend Jennifer was there, too, having arrived earlier in the day from Missouri. My evening had been spent navigating terminals and ordering Americanos from airport Starbucks and trying to get as much elbow room as possible. I was so glad to be back on land – ready to celebrate seeing these dear souls for the first time in months.
As I disembarked, I texted and asked them to meet me at baggage claim. But far as I could tell, and contrary to what Jennifer stated, they weren’t there. Then, a lightbulb.
“What terminal are you in?” I asked.
“Oh crap,” she responded, as the realization set in. But almost immediately, they took off. “We’re coming!” she shouted, as they raced through the airport from their terminal to mine. “Don’t move!”
I stayed on the phone as they made their way to me, and when my three dear friends finally turned the corner, I was overcome with joy. My knees buckled. My heart was full. I was with my people. It just felt right. It was so good to be found.
Last week’s Thursday Three was about getting lost. This week, it’s about being found. To be found is to be known. Seen. Loved without condition. It’s to belong. It’s that feeling of being right where you’re meant to be. Sometimes it’s fleeting. Sometimes it lasts. But when you know, you know.
"Found You" – a 39-second sketch by Jennifer Moxley
I recently discovered this novel new podcast, Kismet, that launched just last month. It’s short, sweet, and brilliantly produced. Each episode tells the story of how two people met – each from his or her unique perspective. The content is good, but it’s the production that makes it unique. One person’s story comes through one channel while the other person’s story comes through the other – as if you're standing between the two talking. And at times when the two people share a word or a phrase or an idea, they meet “in the middle.” You have to listen to hear it for yourself. It’s so cool. This review from The A.V. Club puts it well:
In an era where people’s introductions to one another are increasingly facilitated by the internet, Kismet instead explores how fate and free will factor into the curious ways that strangers’ lives intertwine… and the manner in which it’s told exemplifies the best qualities of the medium.
“Dust” is a great episode to begin with, telling the story of an NYPD officer and the woman who saved his life, but “A Letter” is what I chose to link to above. It’s the story of how two sisters found each other. Each episode is heartfelt and well-crafted, though be advised: some episodes are not well-suited for family listening.
Click here to listen to “A Letter” from Kismet, and be sure to subscribe in whatever podcast app you use on the reg.
This is just bananas. There’s a mountain range in Japan that averages 125 feet of snow each year. Not inches. Feet. And in this region, there’s a mountain with a highway where the snowfall is so heavy and so constant, that they’ll just let the snow pile up – and not even attempt to plow it. At least until March.
Sometime in early March, a bulldozer specially equipped with both a GPS and a mobile satellite phone is sent up the mountain and over the Snow Canyon. The GPS and sat phone work in tandem to provide the driver a detailed video screen image of the dozer’s location in relation to the center of the snow-buried highway. This driver’s job is not to clear snow, but simply to lay out an accurate track of the road itself. Following the GPS dozer is a team of dozers that will begin the clearing operations. The first bulldozers will push and carry the snow forward, to areas where depths are lower and it can be pushed aside or dumped. Backhoes are used to help widen the road. When the bulldozers have come within six feet or less of the road, the rotary blowers can begin their work, and help to at last reveal the long buried asphalt.
This is how Snow Canyon is formed – with walls of snow on either side of the road stretching upward over sixty feet high. Not inches. Feet. You’ve got to see these pictures. For me, the coolest detail of this story is the one lone bulldozer sent to simply find the road and make way for the rest of the bulldozers to get to work.
I got to thinking about how this can be a metaphor for our lives. Certainly, there are or have been "lone bulldozers" throughout our journeys who have done the same for us – cleared a path for us, helped us find our way. Or maybe there are times we're the GPS-enabled bulldozer for others. Or maybe I'm being ridiculous and overthinking this. Still, it's an incredible story and the images are remarkable. Click here to read and see.
This poem by Anne Porter was featured in The Writer’s Almanac last Sunday. Throughout the day, I read it again and again, each time caught up in thoughts and memories of what it means to find and be found.
Nobody in the hospital
Could tell the age
Of the old woman who
Was called Susanna
I knew she spoke some English
And that she was an immigrant
Out of a little country
Trampled by armies
Because she had no visitors
I would stop by to see her
But she was always sleeping
All I could do
Was to get out her comb
And carefully untangle
The tangles in her hair
One day I was beside her
When she woke up
Opening small dark eyes
Of a surprising clearness
She looked at me and said
You want to know the truth?
I answered Yes
She said it’s something that
My mother told me
There’s not a single inch
Of our whole body
That the Lord does not love
She then went back to sleep
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Peace,
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