As the season has brought us much rain this year, I’ve found myself indoors and reflecting on mysteries.
There is an elderly couple that walks down our street every so often, one on one side of the street, the other on the other side. They parallel each other, not one faster than the other. . .together, yet apart. It makes me wonder are they just creatures of habit too proud to be submissive to each other. . .allowing physical space for the emotional space they share yet going at the same rate. Or is it something much less profound like they scour the gutters on either side of the road at the same time searching for treasures. . . hmmmm. . . wonder.
Same street, different scenario. Woman walks her dog without walking. She drives her car up and down the street, window open, arm extended, grasping the leash whilst her tiny dog runs like there’s no tomorrow alongside her car. Every time I see this situation play out, I fear with a pit in my stomach that poor dog is going to trip and slide beneath the back wheel, thwump. . . no more walking. Why doesn’t she walk slowly or hire a child to walk her animal for her, what is going on here? . . .I wonder.
Many years ago, on another street, there was a man walking on the sidewalk pushing a walker. This man was always wearing sweatpants and a flannel jacket. This man walked this sidewalk up and back three or more times a day. We called him The Walking Man (brilliant, I know). After the kids were born I would saunder past Walking Man, he’d look up at the stroller full of babies and a huge expression of light would pass over his face, “JOY!,” he’d say. I was always too shy to strike up a conversation, but not Eddy. One day we passed him in our car and Eddy pulled over to talk to him. He asked him all sorts of questions and I pummelled him for the answers when he returned. This man was from Germany. He fought in the war and all he wanted to do now was live a peaceful life. He had a heart condition that kept him walking to keep it strong. Eddy got his name and phone number and tried to contact him, but by that point Walking Man was very, very sick. Now he is gone. And I miss his persistent, patient, gentle and quiet spirit, reminding me to slow down and experience, “JOY!” (Eddy laments more on this here)
Some of the most amazing things come from just asking.