THE INSPIRATION STATION

On a trip to Portland about 5 years ago I saw a signpost on the street that read: Inspiration Station.  There was a sheet of paper tacked to it that had a quote of some kind and I thought it was such a lovely idea.  I told Hub I wanted one too!  We could put it by the street in front of our house and it would be a nice companion to the Little Library our neighbors across the street had erected.  I love the idea of creating a sense of community for passers-by.

That idea sat unrealized until a couple weeks ago.  I thought of any year, this one was one where inspiration was needed.  I announced I was going  to go to Lowe's and buy some lumber and make my own post and sign.  I had no idea how to do this, so I started looking on the Internet for purchase-able random parts to make manifest the vague image in my head.  This was apparently what it took for Hub to sit up and take notice, likely picturing some monstrosity marking the entrance to our home.  I admit he was probably right. He's much better at this sort of thing than I am.  Thankfully.

He stepped in and said he'd help.  We got down to business and got a clearer idea of what I wanted, went shopping for wood, post, and paint, plexiglass and fixtures. He went right to work with his saw and hammer, I painted when the time was right, he helped with spray painting the letters and assembled and erected the finished product.  We had to pull out an overgrown evergreen and sink the post into concrete at the site we'd chosen, so it was a bit of a chore, but we did it.  

I was amazingly excited and as happy as a kid on Christmas morning!  We called it my early birthday present; I was so grateful for Hub making this happen at long last.  The next morning I sat in my living room, staring out at the sign, just waiting for folks to stop by.  Waiting and waiting and waiting.  I thought they might need a little nudge so I shot an email off to the neighborhood email list announcing the Grand Opening of our Inspiration Station and invited neighbors to drop by for a look.  I got some lovely emails in return.  That afternoon I saw a few people walk by and stop to look and one guy even took a photo!

Since then (two weeks), traffic has been light at best, at least when I'm around to look out the window.  Lots of walkers and joggers and dogs and their people, but very, very few seem to look in the direction of our Inspiration Station or walk up to read the sign.   

Part of the problem is that we live on a narrow street with a sidewalk only on one side -- opposite our sign.  Some folks just walk in the middle of the street, but if they are on the sidewalk they would have to cross over -- no problem, since we have almost no traffic, but oh well, they mostly don't.  Any time I see someone approaching our house I start to try to will them to turn their heads our way.  But they generally do not.  

Here's what I'm observing about humans walking.  On the sidewalk, they generally look in the direction opposite our house, rarely turning toward anything in our direction across the street.  Or, they look down at their feet, never looking up at all!  Or they are looking at their phones as they walk, a skill I have never mastered given my tendency to run into things or fall off curbs when distracted.  Or they will glance, but have no curiosity about what they might see...even if they are being invited to spend a whopping 15 seconds reading something they might find uplifting!!!

Can you tell I'm a wee bit disappointed?  I had so hoped to provide a moment's respite, a moment of whimsy, a moment of reflection.  I had so hoped people would come back often to see the new inspiration I post every few days, perhaps even looking forward to it.  Hub says it's early days....takes awhile to notice and become part of the neighborhood.  I guess. 

Perhaps it's a marketing problem:  I plan now to add a dog water bowl to the stones at the base.  Maybe hang a wreath on the post.  Perhaps leave $20 bills taped to the frame.  

Or maybe the idea is not so much about gathering a crowd as it is to feel a sense of generosity about leaving a silent gift to as many, or as few, as stop to look.  When I look out there, or change the inspiration, I feel joyful, thinking about what Hub and I created together, about giving a gift to my community, about using my photographs and my grandkids' art to create backgrounds for the words of inspiration.   Sure, I'd love others to enjoy it.  And my greatest lesson, which I'm learning every day during the pandemic, is that I cannot expect others to live, love, "be" the same as me.  And that's OK.  I'm learning that only I am responsible for my happiness.  And my little sign makes me happy.

At least, that's the view from here...©