In line at the market, buying writing icing for the Congratulations cake we bought to mark successful getting of the big job by a family friend (intensive process they went through beforehand, getting a hotel to prep, for weeks, basically falling off-grid). An older gentleman looks back to ask if I’m in a hurry, gesturing that seeing I have so little, he would let me go ahead. I explain I just have “I’m in a hurry” energy, whether in a hurry or not, which gains a chuckle all around. I’m not sure it’s true, but it might be.
Everyone works through the line. All is pleasant, normal.
By the time I reach my car however, I’m feeling highly sensitive. I look around and see many older people walking slowly, carefully. Some help one another. I felt sore most of the morning, a little worried about how work might go later, but now I’m standing still, just deeply wondering how anyone manages at all. Everyone seems so frail. I watch the well-mannered gentleman get into his vehicle–a van that may act as a small bus, although signage isn’t clear–and realize he must spend portions of his day sitting, waiting.
I’m not waiting, but I’m not going anywhere, either.
Trying to put my finger on this sampling of experience, I’ll call what occurred ‘all-in-the-same-boat-ness’. It was profoundly strange, a little Lynchian even. I’ll resist the urge to attach meaning or value, just remark that it was certainly thin. A few times this week I noticed, more exactly than usual, rippling effects of small gestures into undulating patterns, noticed how I can’t precisely tie them together, but as in this case, find myself in a wide mind then look back to trace steps. This gentleman’s gesture slowed everything down. I was reminded to appreciate the whole scene and all appearing in it, including me, as a shimmering mirage. Everything, including the fragileness and pain became ‘wonderful’, in a way. ‘Wonderful’ expanded its meaning.
While I know I’m still to some extent drawing the lines myself, in TSK terms, I’m also asking to see that the level as changed by asking when that so-called change occurred. Of course it never did. “When” is a straw man.