You're standing at the corner of "Walk-Don't-Walk," about to cross the street, and you're thinking about your old friend, Doris, you know, the one you haven't seen in 4 months because both your schedules are jacked up crazy.... and then your phone lights up.
Dun dun dun.....it's Doris.
"Doris, get out of my head. I was just thinking about you," you marvel.
That kind of scene happens a lot, doesn't it.
I mean, A LOT.
And that's only one example. What about when you awaken from a dream about your ex from 5 years ago and then later that day, you get an email from said ex?
Or how about when you pick up the phone to call your Aunt Fran and then some weird connection thing happens and you don't even hear the phone dial or ring because Aunt Fran HAS JUST CALLED YOU at the very same time, and she is miraculously on the other end?
Or how about when you receive a text message exactly at the moment you're about to send a message to the very person who has just texted you?
It happens all the time. ALL the time.
But these are all of the instances we KNOW about.
What about all of the instances we do NOT know about?
Let us consider, for a moment, all those times when communication is not attempted at all, but rather, two people are simply thinking of each other at the same time.
There is something magical in this.
Two people, any given distance apart--either a few feet away, or two doors down, or a city apart, or a country apart...two people considering and thinking about each other at the very same time...It must happen every minute, every second of the day....
But what is actually happening in this silent connection?
Of course, it is always interesting and exciting when the examples of proverbial yet atypical communication occur-- like when you go to call Fran and Fran has just called you---but rather, the more thrilling contemplation is 'what is actually happening in the Universe when neither party knows the connection is occurring at all?'
It is a shadowy connection. One we can't necessarily see, but one we have the potential to feel...
A shadowconnection of sorts.
Imagine these two people all of a sudden linked together in a superhighwaynexus kind of way. Minds unleash, portals appear, souls are connected, and for a moment or two, possibilities become endless.... The magic is that neither party is aware it is happening...it is unspoken and beautiful and compelling. It is a connection far greater than words or communication.
It is a mysterious and soundless union.
What is possible in this moment? Are we capable of unveiling the secrets of the world, do we have the power to read minds and to time-travel? Can we join each other and have telepathic conversations? In this intangible and uncharted connection, are we as connected to each other as spiritually and emotionally as humanly possible?
This brief flicker of time has the potential to be incomprehensibly powerful....unsystematically brilliant...and what is so astounding is that we may never even recognize it is happening. It may very well be a hidden life secret---a secret that mysteriously and silently brings us closer together....much like an unwritten symphony that we can still hear; a song without words that we somehow know all the words to; an unpenned poem that we can recite without fail....
And each moment of unspoken shadowconnection creates a bridge, a path, a tightrope of light extending from one person to the other in which anything is possible....
Perhaps none of this is true.
Perhaps all of it is true.
Perhaps this is just imagination gone wild, mystical ideas and pretty speculation.
But just suppose for a moment....build castles in the air.... and flirt with the possibilities....
How fascinating it is to consider who may be thinking of you at this very moment, how many portal connections occur throughout your day---throughout your lifetime---and just how many people you are silently and beautifully and more strongly connected to just through the power of thought.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Perception and the Tale of the F#%*ing Fat B*tch
It was getting colder outside and people were in a rush, making mad dashes from one side of the street to the other, bobbing and weaving in and out of traffic, shifting and sliding in and out of pedestrians' paths...
I was on my way back to work and I moved expertly along the sidewalk against the tide of business men and women fast-walking in the other direction. I found myself passing a Walgreens, and it was in this very spot right in front of the revolving door that I witnessed a rather curious incident, one that left me amused, sad, and intrigued all at once.
A stout woman and a hurried man collided---bumped into each other, rather, as many people tend to do during early morning rushes. He was leaving Walgreens and she was just about to enter the revolving door.
Their shoulders brushed with slight force, nothing violent or out of the ordinary for a morning streetside jostle before work. These things happen and you get used to it living in a city. People bump into each other. You may not always be pleased about it, but from my perspective, it didn't appear to be either party's fault. One could have said the man knocked into the woman just as easily as one could have said the woman knocked into the man.
The middle-aged man wearing a ballcap, and looking very angry at the world, scowled and glared at the woman as she walked on. He clearly perceived that the woman had knocked into him. And he was pissed about it.
"F#%*ing fat b*tch," he cried out venemously. His disdain was as clear as it could possibly be. He turned on his heels and continued on his commute.
But the woman would never know what he had said. She was already halfway through the revolving door to Walgreens by the time he'd insulted her. She plodded along, unaware that this man had been so enraged that he'd not only very publicly slighted her for bumping into him, but he'd also vociferously ridiculed her weight. She was oblivious.
I stopped in my tracks, the sea of pedestrians swimming around me now. I was a bit in shock from overhearing the angry-at-life man speak in such a manner to this woman who, for all intents and purposes, didn't appear to know what had just happened.
The man was in the distance now, walking eastwards, and I wondered why he had become so angry at this woman. What was it that was truly upsetting this man? Was he just upset at life in general? Had he just had a fight with his wife? Did he just get fired? Did his son just fail algebra? Did his daughter just tell him she was having an illigitmate baby with the captain of the footbal team? I deeply wondered where his anger came from. Because, after considering it for a bit, I perceived his anger to be more about himself. It just was directed at the woman because she created an outlet. He now had someplace for his anger to go.
But his true story I never learned.
Rather, I learned the woman's story.
Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to follow the woman inside Walgreens. I suppose I wanted to see for myself if this woman really was a) fat, and b) a f#%*ing b*tch.
I kept about 6 steps behind her the whole time. I felt like a spy. And she never saw me. I would glance away if she looked around, poking at books or vitamins or tape.
I needed the truth.
It was like reality television except I was the only one watching.
And this is when I put everything together.
She walked hurriedly and with purpose. The woman was definitely on a mission. I trailed her as she walked through the aisles until she reached her destination.
She stopped in front of a shelf, peered about for a few seconds, and picked up a bag of....
Ricola Throat Drops.
She was in the Cold and Allergy aisle.
My mind was spinning.
She moved on and dodged in and out of a few others aisles, not knowing exactly where her next purchase was located.
But then she found it. From the other end of the aisle, I saw her locate a pack of travel size Kleenex.
It all made sense now.
This poor woman was sick with a cold.
My world was rocked for a moment. Actually, it continues to be rocked.
It struck me that I was the only one who had seen both sides of this story. The man would never know what the woman's story was, and the woman would never even know that she had been yelled at. The woman was simply rushing, probably cold-headed and woozy, trying to pick up medicine before work. If she had bumped into the man, she probably didn't realize. And she certainly didn't know how angry she had made him. She would never know.
And the man? Well he would NEVER know...how could he possibly know...that this poor woman was neither fat nor was she a fucking bitch....she had a cold. She was buying medicine.
They were both oblivious to the other person's path and actions.
How curious and marvelous and sad, I mused.
Perception is truly amazing. The man saw the woman as rude and distressing, the woman saw the man as a mere bump on her way to the drugstore, and I saw the aftermath and the truth.
I left Walgreens somewhat excited and somewhat distubed that I was the only one who knew the story. I was the only one with the clear perception, the only viewer of this reality production.
And twisted and mundane as this tale might be to some, it was rather remarkable to me. Remarkable that I was the only audience member of the true story of the #$%ing fat b*tch.
I was on my way back to work and I moved expertly along the sidewalk against the tide of business men and women fast-walking in the other direction. I found myself passing a Walgreens, and it was in this very spot right in front of the revolving door that I witnessed a rather curious incident, one that left me amused, sad, and intrigued all at once.
A stout woman and a hurried man collided---bumped into each other, rather, as many people tend to do during early morning rushes. He was leaving Walgreens and she was just about to enter the revolving door.
Their shoulders brushed with slight force, nothing violent or out of the ordinary for a morning streetside jostle before work. These things happen and you get used to it living in a city. People bump into each other. You may not always be pleased about it, but from my perspective, it didn't appear to be either party's fault. One could have said the man knocked into the woman just as easily as one could have said the woman knocked into the man.
The middle-aged man wearing a ballcap, and looking very angry at the world, scowled and glared at the woman as she walked on. He clearly perceived that the woman had knocked into him. And he was pissed about it.
"F#%*ing fat b*tch," he cried out venemously. His disdain was as clear as it could possibly be. He turned on his heels and continued on his commute.
But the woman would never know what he had said. She was already halfway through the revolving door to Walgreens by the time he'd insulted her. She plodded along, unaware that this man had been so enraged that he'd not only very publicly slighted her for bumping into him, but he'd also vociferously ridiculed her weight. She was oblivious.
I stopped in my tracks, the sea of pedestrians swimming around me now. I was a bit in shock from overhearing the angry-at-life man speak in such a manner to this woman who, for all intents and purposes, didn't appear to know what had just happened.
The man was in the distance now, walking eastwards, and I wondered why he had become so angry at this woman. What was it that was truly upsetting this man? Was he just upset at life in general? Had he just had a fight with his wife? Did he just get fired? Did his son just fail algebra? Did his daughter just tell him she was having an illigitmate baby with the captain of the footbal team? I deeply wondered where his anger came from. Because, after considering it for a bit, I perceived his anger to be more about himself. It just was directed at the woman because she created an outlet. He now had someplace for his anger to go.
But his true story I never learned.
Rather, I learned the woman's story.
Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to follow the woman inside Walgreens. I suppose I wanted to see for myself if this woman really was a) fat, and b) a f#%*ing b*tch.
I kept about 6 steps behind her the whole time. I felt like a spy. And she never saw me. I would glance away if she looked around, poking at books or vitamins or tape.
I needed the truth.
It was like reality television except I was the only one watching.
And this is when I put everything together.
She walked hurriedly and with purpose. The woman was definitely on a mission. I trailed her as she walked through the aisles until she reached her destination.
She stopped in front of a shelf, peered about for a few seconds, and picked up a bag of....
Ricola Throat Drops.
She was in the Cold and Allergy aisle.
My mind was spinning.
She moved on and dodged in and out of a few others aisles, not knowing exactly where her next purchase was located.
But then she found it. From the other end of the aisle, I saw her locate a pack of travel size Kleenex.
It all made sense now.
This poor woman was sick with a cold.
My world was rocked for a moment. Actually, it continues to be rocked.
It struck me that I was the only one who had seen both sides of this story. The man would never know what the woman's story was, and the woman would never even know that she had been yelled at. The woman was simply rushing, probably cold-headed and woozy, trying to pick up medicine before work. If she had bumped into the man, she probably didn't realize. And she certainly didn't know how angry she had made him. She would never know.
And the man? Well he would NEVER know...how could he possibly know...that this poor woman was neither fat nor was she a fucking bitch....she had a cold. She was buying medicine.
They were both oblivious to the other person's path and actions.
How curious and marvelous and sad, I mused.
Perception is truly amazing. The man saw the woman as rude and distressing, the woman saw the man as a mere bump on her way to the drugstore, and I saw the aftermath and the truth.
I left Walgreens somewhat excited and somewhat distubed that I was the only one who knew the story. I was the only one with the clear perception, the only viewer of this reality production.
And twisted and mundane as this tale might be to some, it was rather remarkable to me. Remarkable that I was the only audience member of the true story of the #$%ing fat b*tch.
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