Post by MaxQuad on Jan 6, 2006 10:30:38 GMT -5
The Highest Tide
Miles O’Malley is more than just smart for his size; he is wise beyond his years. His message is succinct, elegant and quite powerful.
“Look around.”
Look around. How simple. How rich his life will be because he simply looks around.
It is ironic that it is a boy of thirteen years providing insight regarding all that many of us are missing in life by not seeing when he recounts a BioBlitz moment:
…I watched astonished locals stare at sea life for the first time.
How true. It is seldom that we take the time to truly observe what is around us on a daily basis, what we often believe is routine.
If you watched the bay often enough you eventually saw the inexplicable.
In Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather makes a similar observation about “the Miracles of the Church” – with the observation that such miracles are not the product of fantastic and unbelievable things coming from on high, rather they are a product of taking time to sharpen one’s senses in order to more fully experience the small things that are around us at all times.
Miles’ frequent visits to the tidal flats uncovered many inexplicable events, the series of which raises the specter of his being selected – of being special in inexplicable ways. In his realization and acceptance of being ordinary, paradoxically he becomes more special.
His words didn’t sound or feel real. What the exercise had proved to me was that what went on that summer had nothing to do with me. Not a little. Nothing. What I’d seen was just a sliver of the new life bubbling in our waters, and the only reason I’d seen more than most was because I was the only one looking.
It was a huge relief, in a way, to know that I hadn’t actually been selected for anything, but I admit being disappointed to know, for certain, that I was as ordinary as I felt.
Miles is also special because, unlike most of us, he sees beyond the expected and desired.
Like anything else, people wanted to see beauties or freaks.
Although his tidal flat discoveries are the focus of his celebrity, it is his ability to see the essence within people that is his greatest gift. For example, most who knew Florence came away with one thought – an eccentric “psychic” out of touch with reality. Miles saw much more to Florence. Again, in understanding she was ordinary and not extraordinary (his realization when seeing her bedroom after her death in the midst of the highest tide), he reminds us to look closely – for commonalities and differences both.
Grown-ups are always more fascinated by what you might become than what you are.
Certainly Miles’ parents, especially his father, primarily saw a child of short stature – one they deeply desired to be taller. The frequent measurement of height. The desired hope for greater height. His father was consumed by this view of his son, a view that slights the full picture of Miles in so many ways. Miles’ observation above is a nice reminder to look at people here and now, accept them for what they are – to examine them for the full breadth and depth of who they are rather than the hint of a hoped for future.
One of the most striking examples of Miles’ ability to truly see beyond the obvious is in his relationship with Angie. He sees beyond outrageous behavior, the black rose tattoo and body piercings. Miles falls in love with something deeper within Angie, touchingly expressed when he says, “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can take care of you.”
Just as he realized that he was one of the few people in the world that Florence trusted, he eventually knows the depth of feeling returned by Angie when she whispers, “The ocean will wait for you, Miles…and so will I.” The rewards reaped by Miles are great because he goes beyond the superficial and is truly open to all that he observes in those he meets.
Time is wasting. There is no rehearsal. Stimulated by Miles and his wondrous summer, it is time to open my eyes. He may have grown a mere nine-sixteenths of an inch during those early teen summer months, but he will help all of us grow considerably more if we heed his advice.
This book, a quick read, was warm, wonderful, and quietly inspiring. Somewhere along the way, maybe on Amazon, I believe Miles was referred to as the Owen Meany of the Puget Sound. Both small in stature, both well worth listening to if one desires to live a fuller life.
“Why is it that you always seem to find amazing things in these bays?” she persisted.
“Because I’m always looking,” I said, “and there are so many things to see.”
“But you keep seeing things that people shouldn’t normally be able to see, right?”
“The unusual becomes routine if you spend enough time out here.”
MQ
Postscript: After reading the first 50 pages of the book, I was struck by this memory of being on Long Point Bay with my father.
It was late in the season. My father, in his eighties, was in the boat with me. The evening was pure stillness. One or two boats were visible in the westward distance. While the horizon beckoned the increasingly scarlet sun, he quietly broke the silence. “God, I love this bay.”
Miles O’Malley is more than just smart for his size; he is wise beyond his years. His message is succinct, elegant and quite powerful.
“Look around.”
Look around. How simple. How rich his life will be because he simply looks around.
It is ironic that it is a boy of thirteen years providing insight regarding all that many of us are missing in life by not seeing when he recounts a BioBlitz moment:
…I watched astonished locals stare at sea life for the first time.
How true. It is seldom that we take the time to truly observe what is around us on a daily basis, what we often believe is routine.
If you watched the bay often enough you eventually saw the inexplicable.
In Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather makes a similar observation about “the Miracles of the Church” – with the observation that such miracles are not the product of fantastic and unbelievable things coming from on high, rather they are a product of taking time to sharpen one’s senses in order to more fully experience the small things that are around us at all times.
Miles’ frequent visits to the tidal flats uncovered many inexplicable events, the series of which raises the specter of his being selected – of being special in inexplicable ways. In his realization and acceptance of being ordinary, paradoxically he becomes more special.
His words didn’t sound or feel real. What the exercise had proved to me was that what went on that summer had nothing to do with me. Not a little. Nothing. What I’d seen was just a sliver of the new life bubbling in our waters, and the only reason I’d seen more than most was because I was the only one looking.
It was a huge relief, in a way, to know that I hadn’t actually been selected for anything, but I admit being disappointed to know, for certain, that I was as ordinary as I felt.
Miles is also special because, unlike most of us, he sees beyond the expected and desired.
Like anything else, people wanted to see beauties or freaks.
Although his tidal flat discoveries are the focus of his celebrity, it is his ability to see the essence within people that is his greatest gift. For example, most who knew Florence came away with one thought – an eccentric “psychic” out of touch with reality. Miles saw much more to Florence. Again, in understanding she was ordinary and not extraordinary (his realization when seeing her bedroom after her death in the midst of the highest tide), he reminds us to look closely – for commonalities and differences both.
Grown-ups are always more fascinated by what you might become than what you are.
Certainly Miles’ parents, especially his father, primarily saw a child of short stature – one they deeply desired to be taller. The frequent measurement of height. The desired hope for greater height. His father was consumed by this view of his son, a view that slights the full picture of Miles in so many ways. Miles’ observation above is a nice reminder to look at people here and now, accept them for what they are – to examine them for the full breadth and depth of who they are rather than the hint of a hoped for future.
One of the most striking examples of Miles’ ability to truly see beyond the obvious is in his relationship with Angie. He sees beyond outrageous behavior, the black rose tattoo and body piercings. Miles falls in love with something deeper within Angie, touchingly expressed when he says, “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can take care of you.”
Just as he realized that he was one of the few people in the world that Florence trusted, he eventually knows the depth of feeling returned by Angie when she whispers, “The ocean will wait for you, Miles…and so will I.” The rewards reaped by Miles are great because he goes beyond the superficial and is truly open to all that he observes in those he meets.
Time is wasting. There is no rehearsal. Stimulated by Miles and his wondrous summer, it is time to open my eyes. He may have grown a mere nine-sixteenths of an inch during those early teen summer months, but he will help all of us grow considerably more if we heed his advice.
This book, a quick read, was warm, wonderful, and quietly inspiring. Somewhere along the way, maybe on Amazon, I believe Miles was referred to as the Owen Meany of the Puget Sound. Both small in stature, both well worth listening to if one desires to live a fuller life.
“Why is it that you always seem to find amazing things in these bays?” she persisted.
“Because I’m always looking,” I said, “and there are so many things to see.”
“But you keep seeing things that people shouldn’t normally be able to see, right?”
“The unusual becomes routine if you spend enough time out here.”
MQ
Postscript: After reading the first 50 pages of the book, I was struck by this memory of being on Long Point Bay with my father.
It was late in the season. My father, in his eighties, was in the boat with me. The evening was pure stillness. One or two boats were visible in the westward distance. While the horizon beckoned the increasingly scarlet sun, he quietly broke the silence. “God, I love this bay.”