CHASING DOWN THE MUSE:Treasure the random bits that make a life

“Get a life. A real life …” -- Anna Quindlen

A life is made of random bits and pieces. Random bits — like loose threads woven together — become a whole, interconnecting in ways that may only make sense at some later time. Or maybe never.

Following the random bits through a day feels a lot like that 1991 cult film, “Slacker,” starting one way and then making an abrupt, seemingly disconnected shift to follow another path. Random.

In the dark, before the hawk’s screeching call could be heard, an owl’s soft whoo-hoo caught my attention. Then a squeal was heard from its startled prey. For no reason, I thought of the war in Iraq. Random, perhaps, yet never far from anyone’s mind, I suspect.

It was 33 degrees Fahrenheit on the deck in the early morning as I headed out for a beach walk. Because I was sick over the holidays, what might normally be solitude for me became isolation.

On this January morn, I longed simply to be around people as I started the day. The beach walk seemed a good place to start, cold or not.

Random bits of sea glass caught my eye. I paused. What is it about these small pieces of detritus tossed up on shore that captures so many of us?

Heads down, we ply the beaches this time of year, moving from one pile of stones strewn upon the beach to another. Just as in a day we move from one random bit to another?

Head down as I searched the sand, it felt good to be among other folks, to see them and feel their nearby presence. Just then, I almost ran headlong into my young friend, Reem, also head down and searching for the bright bits.

As her dog Rudy stood patiently by, we hugged and spoke rapid-fire, trying to catch up after weeks with no contact. I was interested to hear about her return to school and the classes she was taking.

Reem is one of those women I know who seem to make their own luck and good fortune out of random bits. Her enthusiasm for life brings her the wonderful mix of joy and heartache that is a life. Anna Quindlen would like her, I think.

Home again, gazing down the canyon past “Meister mountain” (yes, that plastic-covered mountain of dirt in Bluebird Canyon that seems so out of place), the blue sea sparkled in the bright sunlight.

With the ever-present hum of machinery repairing the slide as background noise, Catalina seemed far, far away.

I think of the dreams of so many, like the Meister family and other canyon landslide survivors.

Attitude and perspective and hard work, wrapped up with luck and fortune and even random bits. All these make up their lives.

As I turned to the computer to begin this week’s column, an e-mail informed me that Villanova University had contacted my editor, Cindy Frazier, to let her know that a quote I used last week from Anna Quindlen that was supposed to have been given at a commencement there was actually never given. Too bad.

The speech is one of those pieces that I read and immediately thought, “I wish I had written that!”

So I still say that what she wrote, whether she ever “said” it or not, is wonderfully vital.

And from the same source, I add “Get a life. A real life....” And if that life is made of random bits, pick them up and treasure them as you would random bits of sea glass.

Chase the joy and let it randomly catch you up in its arms.

Hug someone.

Tell someone how much they matter.

Smile.

Look at the view.

Live out loud and randomly, with whatever comes your way. It is far too easy to take it all for granted.

We are blessed that this community still offers so much — random or not.

I love it!