Get out of the way and let it happen

Around Willie Nelson’s 90th birthday, an interviewer called him the only unifying figure in this country. When asked what he thought could bridge what seems to be intractable division in America, Willie said, “I think you wake up every day and imagine what you want to see happen today, and then get out of the way and let it happen. It’s worked for me. I take it one day at a time.”

I have a sister who looks much like Willie, headband and all. Someone once called her Willie’s sister. They are both very frail today but still light up my life. I’ve seen Willie several times on stage, and I would go again today. I’ve watched his playful will and strong voice mellow and lose range. But he’s the same Willie who still gets on the road again and signs every check to help farmers.

The same day I watched the interview, I called my Willie sister, who is in a group home in Arizona. She has dementia and has been in the home since she fell on her 80th birthday three years ago. I think she knows who I am, but it doesn’t matter. When I call, she giggles while telling me how wonderful the resort is, how great the food is, and how she has the best room in the house. She describes the big glass doors in front of her round glass table where she reads magazines daily. Her voice softens as she describes the blue sky and the green grass and tells me how lucky she is.

When I asked about her roommate, she said, “My roommate.” I knew she was processing what I asked. After a moment, she laughed and said what she always says when I ask the question, “Oh, some things never change.” In other words, my sister doesn’t complain about the grumpy woman who won’t share the remote; she only eats, sleeps, smokes, and steals my sister’s stuff, which I don’t think she does.

My sister and Willie probably enjoyed life a little more than most and drank their share of tequila and partook of more than their share of pot, but who am I to judge? Like many people we criticize, we envy their grit, authenticity, and compassion.

I’m lucky to have two Willies and Lucy, who is undoubtedly Willie’s dog. They’ve taught me that, once in a while, when I think I shouldn’t do something, do it anyway.

Like my sister, maybe we could all incorporate a little of Willie’s philosophy: “Wake up every day and imagine what you want to see happen today, and then get out of the way and let it happen.”

Until the next time: Live while you live.

Jennifer Goble, Ph.D., LPC, is the author of “My Clients…My Teachers,” and the blogger and writer of Rural Women Stories: www.ruralwomenstories.com.