Being Present on the Subway

“BUENAS DIAS! HAHAHA!”  I heard upon entering the subway car during my morning commute to work.

Damn it, I thought. Next time, remember to survey the car before getting on, I reprimanded myself.

I crossed over and stood by one of the exit doors. I could feel the tension in the air surrounding the passengers sitting on my side of the subway car.  I knew that tension well — a form of protection actually—that I, too, had now put on.  A protective coat alerting my senses to be extremely vigilant in the event that we needed to act fast because of something or someone in our environment.

“BUENAS DIAS! HOW ARE YOU! HAHAHA!”

I did a cursory sweep and sensed, more than saw, him standing by the middle of the subway car.

Over the years, I’d encountered him during my morning work commute— either on this train line or the previous one that began the train portion of my journey.  I had a few memories of him.

There was the time he sat in the corner of a train car, shielded behind a large, folded cardboard box, the set up effectively communicating to the rest of the passengers, Do Not Disturb .  I only knew it was him when his distinct, somewhat gravely, and oftentimes startlingly loud voice called out from behind the wall of cardboard, airing grievances that I couldn’t clearly make out.

Then there was the time he briefly engaged with me.  “GREEN!” He called out.  He said it a few times before I realized he was addressing me.  I was wearing a green hued coat.  He then pointed to his coat, “RED!” The conversation that followed was comprised of very few sentences, but I surmised he liked the color as it reminded him of something related to one of his sisters.  I believe he also revealed he had either five or seven sisters and that he was the youngest. I think.  He definitely had a lot of sisters as I remember thinking, Wow that’s a lot of sisters.

There was also the time he seemed very agitated after exiting the subway car — so agitated, instinct had me speeding up to get out of the vicinity.

But on this particular morning , as our train clattered, bumped and shimmied its way along the tracks, he didn’t seem agitated.

“CINCO! HAHAHA!  THAT MEANS, FIVE! BUENAS DIAS, HOW ARE YOU! HAHAHA!”

If anything, he just seemed jovial.  And really, really enthusiastic in sharing the bit of Spanish he knew.

Once I made that connection, I found myself unzipping my tension just enough to accept the experience and all the feelings and thoughts it brought up.  In general he was still quite loud— and not just by unofficial early morning commute standards.  But then again, I leaned more towards the quiet, so it wasn’t all on him.  And even though to my senses he was loud, to be fair, he was emanating happy vibes and there was a case to be made for happy vibes. Also, I didn’t have to stay in this particular car— there were many others to choose from. The main insight I got from the experience though was to honor my initial instinct of zipping up that coat as it was the way my mind and body chose to cope at first.  But shortly after, by also choosing to stay a bit present to what was actually taking place in real time, I realized I could loosen up that coat and give things a chance to be okay. 

Mental Snapshot of Love (seen in line at Old Navy)

Mental Snapshot of Love

As I stood towards the end of a long, winding line at Old Navy, I saw a man-- possibly in his mid 40ties-- and his daughter, who looked to be around 6, 7, 8, making their way through the store, shopping.  At one point, he playfully ran away from her as she pursued him with a new found item of interest, laughingly calling out, "Daddy!"  Last I saw them, he was running past me in the opposite direction, laughing, as she, all smiles, continued in hot pursuit.

I saw the Sign (A Message from Daddy)

Not long ago, I was sitting here, thinking of my late father. I had the thought that I didn't have anything tangible from him/ of his still in my possession.

I had been rereading through Cat Crowley's novel, Words in Deep Blue-- the section where someone living received a letter from someone who had passed. One of the main characters, the deceased's sister, had a box of items belonging to her brother and said she knew she'd keep the box forever. That's when I had the thought that I didn't think I had anything of my dad's anymore.

I closed the book.

After some time I did that thing of closing my eyes and asking for a message-- asking to be led to a message in the book for me. I opened the book to this page, and seeing the message, I immediately remembered that I had a note that I kept in my photo album-- a note from my freshman year in college, written by my dad.

That year had been my first time away from home for an extended period of time. And my first night on campus, while speaking to him on the phone had been the first time I had ever said the words, "I love you" to another person. I said it in English as those words don't really exist as such in my native language (the closet equivalent I can think of loosely translates to, "Thoughts of you makes me so, so happy). And at some point in that year, he surprised me by sending my first ever gift basket and that basket included a hand written note.

The passage in the book triggered that memory and fishing out the note from where I'd packed it away, I cried and laughed at the similarities between the two.

So, I got my message, a sign, an answer, my heart filled with love and so much more. Well played, daddy. I love you :)  ♥️

Mental snapshot of love: Seen in the Bus

Mental snapshot of Love: The cheers, and quiet but giddy clapping of two playful little girls sitting together on the bus, when they are finally joined by their mother, who had been standing next to them as they sat for several stops.  Their combined, "Yays!" as they quickly slid over to make room for her made my heart smile😊

Mental snapshot on the sidewalk

A mom, in blue scrubs, on the phone, facing her teenage doppelgänger, without the latter's glasses. The teenager, in the sometimes way of teenagers, with exasperation, a touch of incredulity, insistence, and demand, stresses the word, "Mom!" to get her undivided attention. In turn, "Mom" meets her gaze with a surprised, unintentionally comic look. And passing this living sidewalk tableau, I smile, thinking of mothers and daughters.

Learning on a Subway Platform-- A man and two little ones

Standing on the downtown subway platform, awaiting my second to last connection, I looked across the tracks at the pedestrian rush hour traffic heading uptown.

A party of three caught my eye-- a man pushing a little girl in a stroller accompanied by a little boy trailing behind them.  

The man looked to be in his 40ties, wore glasses, a long sleeved dress shirt and slacks.  The little girl, possibly 3 or so, appeared to be daydreaming.  And the little boy, falling behind, the distance between him and the others growing every time he stopped to give his full attention to whatever caught his eye, looked to be around 4 or 5. 

When the guardian came to the steps, he stopped, turned around and called out to the boy.  Then, turning back around, he leaned down, picked up the stroller with its young passenger and steadily made his way up the 16 steps to the second level. Clearly, he was fit.

Now, by the time he reached the top, the young boy was still on step number 2, leaning his weight against the railing, looking back towards recently covered ground, mesmerized by something I didn't see.

When the guardian had first begun his trip up the stairs, I knew the boy would most likely fall behind.  What I didn't expect was the gentle but firm manner in which the guardian called out to him once at the top, and the patience with which he waited for the boy to join him.  Not once did I get the slightest sense of impatience from the man.  In fact, not only had he fostered a sense of independence by not insisting that the boy go ahead of him in the first place, but in addition to that, I felt I was bearing witness to a man respecting a child's pace in a way one adult might respect that of a fellow adult. That really made me take notice since, much of the time, I often see guardians trying to hurry along the children in their care. Truth be told, unless I'm waiting for a train, I'm someone who rushes through the subway station to get from point A to point B!

When the boy finally joined his guardian at the top of the stairs, the latter once again took the lead.  And when last I saw the boy, he was once again stopped in his tracks, mesmerized by something I still didn't see.

Heart Expanding at the Laundromat

Oh my heart!

I was at the laundromat folding my clothes when another customer came in and took one of the carts.

She took it outside to her car and I could see she had several bags to carry in.  Even after loading it up, she ended up carrying another bag by hand as well.

Now, as she was approaching the closed door of the laundromat, a little boy, maybe 4/5/6, the son of the lady working the morning shift, suddenly ran around me, struggled to quickly open the door, succeeded, and stood guard until the woman with the cart and clothes got through.  Then he went back to his seat where he resumed watching a PBS children's program.

His mom was in back so she didn't see what her amazing, compassionate young son had done.

What a beautiful soul! I couldn't get over how kind and aware and big hearted he had chosen to be! 

I wanted to sing his praises to his mom, but there's a language barrier, so I contented myself with singing his praises to the woman he had assisted.  And because its touched me so much, I had to share it with you, too.

And it honestly came at the perfect moment.  I really needed to witness that gesture of open hearted kindness. I really, really did♥️

Hi-five Lessons on the Subway

As I stood on the subway train-- only three stops before making my next connection-- I happened to glance over at family of four. 

The mom was sitting, slightly bent over a baby stroller. Next to her was an outgoing little girl wearing glasses and a quiet little boy, both approximately 4 or 5 years old.  Sitting in the stroller was a little girl in pigtails who appeared to be around 2 1/2 years old. The older girl was in the process of trying to teach the younger one how to high five.

Holding up her right hand, palm facing the younger girl, the older one asked her to mirror her. She tried this method a few times, and then, perhaps thinking her student needed to see it in action, demonstrated by high five-ing the mom. 

Taking it a step further, just in case this called for a more hands on approach, the older girl leaned towards the little one, physically picked up her hand, and then struck it against her own--effectively making a high five happen.

Now. Now, that contact had finally been made, the older girl, thoroughly confident in her teaching abilities, once again held up her hand and invited the younger one to a high five.

In reply, the younger one  laughed. Rather cheekily. And then, with mischief dancing in her eyes, retreated as far as she could into her stroller.

I think everyone watching would  have agreed that the lesson was over.

Signs of Love

On my way back from the laundromat, I saw the feather. I noticed and smiled. I associate white feathers with Angels and being loved and watched over. I like to think when I see white feathers, I'm being told, "We're cheering you on." A few seconds later, I saw the dandelion fluff gliding through the air within my reach. Now, in the past, I've had to work a bit (i.e. run and grab at air a few times) to catch a dandelion fluff 😉 So it's nearness and seeing it on the heels of spotting the white feather made me laugh, as I reached out and caught it. I've been dealing with some physical pain the last few days. I've taken steps to heal it, but it's the type of pain that's made me cry out with frustration to the heavens, Help please! I had a rough night between experiencing the pain itself and my thoughts about the pain. But my little white feather and dandelion fluff are helping me to endure and gently keep returning to the thought, I'm going to be fine. And I honestly believe if I play my part-- however many times I have to remind myself--by thinking thoughts that help me feel balanced on the inside, then I'll be able to navigate, to the best of my abilities, whatever is happening on the outside. So that's where I find myself. Hope your weekend is filled with thoughts that lift you up. Cheering you on :) 

🙂

Three on a the Subway, Parenting

It was about 6:30am and the subway car was already filling up with passengers.  A party of three boarded.  A man in a faded blue cap, blue shirt, brown shorts, and glasses rolling a large luggage bag with two smaller bags attached, was accompanied by two children, approximately age 5 or 6, a boy and girl, each wearing backpacks. There were two spaces available-- one of which was an end seat-- and the man guided the little girl to sit.  She did. He then asked the little boy to sit next to her. He wouldn't, and set his lower lip in a way to further let his guardian know he wasn't budging. 

The guardian looked tired.  But he took the boy's refusal in stride and sat on the end seat on the right hand side of the girl. As soon as he sat, he asked the boy again if he wanted to sit. No. Then the girl gestured to the guardian that she wanted to switch sides. So he gets up and moves to her left. She's now sitting on the end seat. Initially a few feet away, the little boy inches closer. The guardian asks again if he wants to sit down. This time the boy nods a yes. So, the guardian gets up, and now the little girl complains-- it's not clear to me if she's complaining about the guardian getting up or complaining because she's had to move down so the boy, who looks rather pleased with the situation, is now sitting on the end seat. A passenger who was sitting next to the guardian, moves down, making more room so the guardian retakes his seat. With the game of musical chairs coming to an end, the boy is on the end seat, the girl is to his left and the the guardian is to her left, all appear to settle in for the rest of their train ride. But when I looked over about 15 minutes later, somehow the girl had reclaimed the end seat and the boy was now sitting on the luggage in front of the guardian-- his little body angled towards him, while looking off to the side, as the guardian quietly spoke to him.

I felt for the guardian.  Here he was traveling via subway with rather heavy and cumbersome looking luggage, early in the morning, with two little ones-- neither one shy in communicating their feelings.  But I was also proud of the guardian.  He looked tired, but he was quietly engaged.  He was definitely present with the kids.  I hoped for the very best in their day's adventures.

Taking a Mental Picture on the Sidewalks of Brooklyn

Two women engaged in what appeared to be a leisurely stroll were pushing carts down the sidewalk. One looked to be in her fifties-- I found myself admiring her warm, but vibrant red top.  Her fellow traveler, possibly in her late thirties, was smiling and nodding as she listened to the other woman's words.  A few moments after they'd passed by my perch in front of an apartment building, a high pitched squeal had me turning around. 

A young girl, possibly in her mid to late teens, still squealing with the distinctly irrepressible joy often attributed to youth, enveloped the older woman around the waist, picked her up, and held her for about 4 or 5 seconds a few inches off the ground.  Her joy was so palpable, I could feel it radiating off of her.  Her joy was so infectious that I found myself grinning, drawn like a magnet to this unexpected expression and experience of love in action, delighted in this new mental picture. I don't believe I have ever witnessed a young girl so happy that she literally picked up an adult, momentarily holding her suspended in the air.  Made my heart smile ♥️

Two on the subway, child and guardian

I was standing by one of the subway car doors during what, for me, was a two stops train ride, the next stop being my transfer point. I noticed her as she looked up to her guardian, possibly her mother, most definitely a loved and cherished one.  Much of her silky black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, while the rest framed an upturned face with shining dark eyes and a sweet, sweet smile.  She looked to be about 5 or 6, but even then I got the impression she was small for her age. I watched her snuggle closer to her guardian, who in turn looked down at her, and drew her closer with a right handed embrace.  Content, the young girl lay her head on the woman's chest and closed her eyes. And I felt a warmth bloom within and thought of mothers, and the unique feeling of safety found in the comfort of a mother's arms.

A Call for Empathy

I watched something this morning that made me sad.  It was a news story about a man who drowned while calling out for help.  He was calling out to the teens who filmed it and they did nothing to help. Their commentary clearly shows they had no plans to help. I don't know why they didn't help or why they didn't call 911 for help.  But I do believe that somehow the concept of empathy was missing.  Somehow, empathy appears not to have been a lesson that took root thus far in their life's journey.  Empathy is important but unless the adults or caretakers in a child's life takes the time to teach and foster it, it may be harder to take root as that child gets older.  I am not blaming the parents or adults in these teen's lives.  I don't know them. I don't know these teens. I don't know their individual stories. And I'm not saying that empathy can't be learned at any stage in a person's life. I'm just thinking out loud here. Giving voice to the thoughts that say it all starts when we are children.  That is such an important time in the helping to shape how one can navigate the world.  I'm writing this to ask that those in a position to nurture and positively influence a child's life experience, a young adult's life experience, even an adult's life experience, to please do so-- not only taking the the life you are potentially influencing into consideration, but also the lives of others they may cross paths with in their journey.  And one of those important lessons, to me, is that it of empathy. Cheering you on.

A Lesson on the Subway

The subway car's door opened and a woman got on with her two children.  She then approached a passenger with questions on how to get to her destination.  

It was the weekend and due to track work, the normal train wasn't running and the substitute train was running via the East side as opposed to the West. 

Realizing she needed to figure out where to make the necessary connections to get back on track, she came over to my side of the car and started consulting the electronic strip map. 

She was carrying a young boy-- about three years of age --, and they were followed by another little boy who looked about 6 or 7.  She tried to get both boys to sit on the seats below the map, but the seat next to where she wanted them had debris on it and they refused.   The younger of the two actually had no interest in sitting.  He insisted on being held. After several attempts to convince him otherwise, she picked him up and went back to perusing the strip map. 

The older child decided to sit somewhere else and on his way stumbled into another seated passenger.  The only indication that contact had been made came from the physical impact of the stumble. Otherwise, the boy continued on as though nothing had happened and settled down in the seat next to the man he'd run into.  As this all took place behind her back, while she was still looking at the map, the mother wasn't aware of what had transpired.  It wasn't until another passenger addressed the boy that she glanced over her shoulder.

In preparation to exit at the next stop, the passenger who spoke got up and made his way to one of the car's doors.

"You should say excuse me."  He made eye contact with the boy, his tone gentle but firm.

The boy, surprised into a confused smile, looked up at him in silence.

"You should apologize and say, 'Excuse me,'" the man repeated.    Gesturing towards the seated passenger, "You ran into him."

During the exchange the mother kept shifting her attention between the standing passenger, and her son. She didn't intervene-- just quietly watched how it would unfold.

Shyly, and with what could be interpreted as embarrassment, the boy glanced over to the seated passenger and said, "Sorry."

The seated passenger, also looking a bit embarrassed at the attention, replied, "That's okay. No problem."

"See, now you've done the right thing," said the standing man.  A few seconds later, the doors opened and he walked out onto the crowded subway platform. 

I appreciated him speaking up and the calm, but firm manner in which he did.

I had been surprised at how the boy didn't seem to register running into the seated passenger.  I remember thinking that the seated passenger might as well have been a ghost.  Even the seated passenger looked surprised both upon impact and at the initial lack of acknowledgment.

While I find myself wondering if the young boy will remember the advice should any such occurrences take place in the future, I know I am grateful for the calm persistence of the stranger.  He took it upon himself to teach something important and whether or not the lesson has a lasting effect on the intended student, he played his part and will never know whose listening ears he did effect.  It definitely affected me.

The Most Effective Alarm EVER

I was taking a nap when suddenly I was startled awake by a loud buzzing much too close for comfort.

I practically leapt off my bed, grabbed a broom and began frantically looking around for the source of the buzzing.

Finally, I saw him, or her, circling one of the light fixtures on the ceiling.  It reminded me of a bee--only because it was buzzing--, but apart from making that sound it didn't look like any bee I had ever seen, and it was large-- about a little more than half the size of my index finger. 

Taking in the size, the continued buzzing, my heart pounding a little faster, I wondered what to do.  I had a broom in my right hand, but what if I missed and in the missing, made Buzz angry or angrier?!  I didn't think I wanted a more disgruntled Buzz in my home.  

My front door was towards my left.  Ohhhh, I thought to myself, how grateful I would be if I opened the door and Buzz just decided to fly out!!! Just so kindly did the work for me by flying out!! How wonderful and perfect would that be?!!  

OhmigodIwouldbesohappy!

Therefore, swayed by that potentially happy outcome, I inched towards the door-- praying nothing else would fly in-- held it wide open with my left hand and within a few seconds, I kid you not, Buzz flew down from the light fixture and out the door!

I was elated !I am elated!!  My exact words were, "Oh sweet God, thank you!!!"

I don't know how or when Buzz got in without me noticing?!! But I am over the moon grateful that neither Buzz or myself got hurt, and that Buzz is back outside in nature doing whatever Buzz wants to do outside in nature!!!!

Talk about a wake up call!  Seriously, the undeniable loud buzzing sound of an insect?  In my humble opinion, more effective than any bedside or phone alarm! 

Interactions on the Subway, A Stranger, A Baby and Keys

I was on a somewhat packed subway train the other day when I noticed a young man, possibly in his mid to late 20ties, take off his headphones and signal to catch the attention of someone sitting across from him.

Following his gesturing right hand, first, I noticed a young woman with a baby in her lap.  Next, I noticed that the baby had a ring of keys in his mouth.  Not fake plastic keys, but active everyday people keys.  

It appeared that the young mother had been engaged in conversation with a young gentleman and another child who looked to be about 3 or 4.  The young gentleman, holding on to the black baby carriage next to them.

Upon realizing why the man across the aisle had been signaling to her, the mother looked at her baby, then quickly, but gently, extracted the keys and thanked the man.

Now keyless, the little baby wiggled his body, his little arms partially outstretched as if posed to take flight.  But he didn't seem to mind the loss.  He continued to sit on her lap, courtesy of her cradling arms, seemingly content with how things had played out.   He seemed so happy go lucky it came as no surprise that a few seconds later, his little hands replaced the vacated position inside his mouth.

My heart sighed an, "Aww."  I fell a little in love with him.  He seemed so content -- the energy of him felt so peaceful.  

Everyone involved in my experience had my admiration and well wishes-- the stranger who chose to say something, the mother holding her baby-- I was really drawn to the fact that she was holding him and how she was holding him-- as well as her gentle but quick response, and the baby whose presence and disposition just made my heart smile.

Bug Bite

It's been three days since I discovered the bug bite on the left side of my left knee.
That first day, I looked at the bug bite and proclaimed, "HA!  Come what may, I won't scratch you."
Three days later, the index finger on my left hand is getting a workout with all the scratching its been engaged in.
It's also turning blue-- the direct result of the dye rubbing off of my dark blue jeans. But I don't consider this a failure. Let us not forget that I did in fact wait approximately three days before scratching.
Small victories.  But nevertheless, victories.

Happy Father's Day June 18th, 2017 FB Post

To the Fathers, the ones in our lives, and the ones who will live forever in our hearts and memories, to all who embody the role in words, thoughts and actions, Happy Father's Day. Your presence is vastly important -- you truly, genuinely make a difference and I, for one, thank you and appreciate all your efforts. Cheering you on, always <3

PSA on Helping

I read two posts recently that had me thinking.  Both had a scenario where someone was asking for help.  

In one scenario, a young child and a slightly older sibling were approached in a hospital waiting room by a stranger with some story that they had a friend in the bathroom who needed help. The stranger suggested that the children could be of service in getting the stranger's friend out of the bathroom. But the older sibling wouldn't budge and the stranger eventually left.  When the children mentioned this to their Guardian, the Guardian told the hospital staff, and the bathrooms were searched. There was no one there who needed assistance.  When the older sibling was asked why he didn't help, he stated it didn't make sense that with all the adults around that could help, the stranger turned to children.

In the second scenario, a man posts that in the early hours of the morning, a woman frantically knocked on his door saying she needed help. He said to her he would help by calling the police, to which she ended up replying not to and went away.  He still called the police and when they arrived, they saw no signs of a woman or any altercation.  In this scenario, it appears that the man whose door was knocked on was aware of instances where people trying to break into homes would set up a ruse to play upon people's inclination to assist those who appeared to be in need.

I post this because preying on someone's inclination to be of service can happen-- especially where children are involved.  Most kids are taught to help when they can.  Heck, I like to help when I can.  But while helping when one can is wonderful, it's important to take in the whole scene and if something feels off, not to immediately do what is being asked/demanded/ expected of you, but to see how to involve others who are actually better equipped to help.

Something to think about-- regardless of age. 

Whatever You Choose to Make of It

I got to work early this morning only to find that the elevators weren’t working and the fire alarm lights were flashing.

 

There wasn’t a fire. 

But something had tripped up the system and it was now stuck.  Which made two of us.  

And so I munched on my Starbuck’s breakfast sandwich and tried to get an idea of how things would most likely unfold.  I was there early.  A full hour earlier than the Front desk attendant was to show up. 

Well, at least I was indoors and out of the rain.

About 10 minutes later, another person showed up.  He too had arrived early to get some work done. His office was on the 8^th floor.  Mine on the 7^th. He called the Super.  The Super wouldn’t be arriving for about another hour.

So, my new friend and I—I’ll call him D-- passed the time talking. Amongst other things, I learned he was one of the Higher ups at his job on the 8^th floor.  We talked about Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, his little girl who was going through a stage where she only gravitated towards books with pink and purple covers, the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series currently being read by his son.  We talked about September 11 (he was here in the City, I was in Graduate school in a different state), and about people coming together to help each other, he brought up the two major blackouts the city has experienced since he’s been here and how those experiences inspired him to set up emergency provisions at his place of work for any future emergencies. 

About 45 minutes into our wait, one of his employees came in and ended up joining us.  Not long after, someone else from a different floor came in.  This man was quite unhappy about not being able to get to his floor.  Although D invited him over, he opted to keep to himself.

Finally, the Front Desk Attendant came in and not long after someone else arrived and eventually, the elevators were up and running again.

We got to my floor first, and after exchanging, “It was very nice to meet yous,” bid goodbye to D and the gang.

Walking into my office, an hour and a half after I first got there, I found myself thinking, “What was I supposed to get out of all that transpired this morning?”(I do that sometimes—wondering why something happened or what I’m supposed to learn from what has happened.) But on the heels of that came the answering thought, “Whatever you choose to make of it.”  In which case, since there was nothing else I could have done to get from the lobby to my floor, I’m grateful that I still ended up experiencing a pleasant enough morning J And special thanks to D-- many thanks to D-- for helping to make it so J

In the Presence of Love-- Seen on the bus

Sitting on the B41 local bus headed uptown, I saw two siblings get on. 

The oldest, a girl, whose thick, long black hair fell just below the middle of her back, looked to be about 6 or 7.  She wore a gray long sleeved top over pink slacks and black sneakers and carried a Princess Anna doll-- the latter sporting the gray lock of hair amidst the sea of brown, neatly coiffed under a jeweled crown.

The little girl was followed by her brother. He looked to be about 4 or 5, and had on gray sweatpants, under a long sleeved dark blue and white top.  His expressive joy filled face, framed by the straight as rain black of a bowl haircut.

They took the first two seats on the left hand side of the bus and when their mother boarded, she took the only available seat, one person down, across from them on the right hand side.

As soon as she sat down, they actively sought to catch her eye.  Eye contact made, they smiled at her and gestured -- checking in to make sure they were okay where they were sitting. She smiled in return with such warmth, I couldn't help but feel happy in their presence.  

Content, the children danced in their seats-- the girl playing with her doll, and the boy, effortlessly vibrant, simply expressing the joy and carefree nature often associated with happy children.  And without a doubt, these were truly happy children.

At one point, the little boy leaned forward in his seat.  The girl, who consistently checked in with her mother from time to time (actually both of them did), quickly figured out that her mom wanted her to keep her brother safe.  Her solution was to hold out her right arm in front of her brother akin to the bar on amusement park rides that keeps the passengers upright and secure for the duration of the ride.

When the passenger who had been sitting next to the boy got up to exit, both kids excitedly called for their mom to come over.  Beaming at them, she did, and once physically reunited, kissed them both.

Not long after, she glanced down and saw her daughter's shoelace coming untied.  She gestured for the foot, and the little girl laid it over her brother's knees, who, in turn, gasped, playfully affronted by his sister's actions.  Mom and sister laughed while mom finished tying the laces.

Finally, the bus came to their stop.  The girl got off first, followed by the mom who picked up the boy and at the same time called out, "Thank you" to the driver.  Without skipping a beat, the young boy also called out an enthusiastic, "Thank you!"

The last I saw of them, mom held her son's right hand, daughter was playing with Princess Anna and both children were literally skipping down the sidewalk. What a wonderful experience to bear witness to♥️

Two on a Bus-- Siblings

I was sitting on the B41 Local bus as a small crowd of new passengers boarded.

A little boy, wearing a shy looking smile and the expression of a dreamer, passed by and made his way to the back.  He appeared to be around 3 or 4, with just-below-the-nape, long brown hair, large red framed glasses, and wore a grey and red fleece hoodie-- grey hood and sleeves-- over a dark blue pair of khakis.

Two passengers later, a young lady,  sharing similar facial features, possibly 16 or 17 years of age, came in and stood next to a two seater closer to the middle of the bus.  She then called out to him, and pointed at the seats.  She called out a few times, gesturing him over and then indicating the seats.  

At first, it seemed he was set to stay where he was.  But she continued to insist, firmly and pleasantly, all the while showing no signs of impatience.

Finally, he slowly made his way over to her, slid into the space backwards--his front facing the seat--and then, when he was in,  turned around to sit down.

I was drawn to how gentle she was from the moment she first called out to him, all the way until he settled in.  There was no self consciousness on her part, no signs of judgement or nonverbal commentary about the situation.  She simply stayed open, held her ground, and gave him time to come over and sit in the manner he wanted.  It was lovely.

Later, when they prepared to exit, she leaned down, picked him up and made her way down the stairs.  Once on the sidewalk, she placed him on solid ground.  Last I saw, they were holding hands as they disappeared into the crowd.

Sidewalk Race in Brooklyn

At the sounds of squeals and laughter, I looked across the street from where I stood waiting at the city bus stop, and sprinting up the sidewalk, three young girls were engaged in a race.  

Two of them looked to be about 7 and 9, respectively, while the tallest of the three, about 11. Over their blue jeans, the young ones had on winter coats-- one in a puffy black number, the other in a magenta version. The tallest girl was wearing a primarily white base sweatshirt with a pattern I was unable to make out.

The girl in magenta was in the lead, and so certain was she of victory, that at one point, she turned around, placed her thumbs in each ear, wiggled the remaining fingers tauntingly and stuck out her tongue.

This, in turn, spurred the tallest to tap into a newly discovered reservoir of speed, and had her picking up her pace.  With a look of surprise, that quickly changed to delight and then determination, the girl in the lead, turned back around and redoubled her efforts.

This all seemed to have the opposite effect on the younger girl in the black coat. She stopped in her tracks for about 20 seconds and watched the others. But then changed her mind and once again broke into a run.

Finally, they were all reunited at the end of the sidewalk -- which coincidentally, faced a traffic stop where the signal stated they did not have the right of way.

Perhaps the plan was always to stop at that fixed point, or perhaps the stop signal made the decision for them.  But they stood together, laughing and teasing each other, while their guardians, three older females, with large purses and one pink roller bag, caught up to them.  

When the signal changed,  they continued their journey and I found myself wondering when last I had engaged in a physical, impromptu race with friends simply for the sake of playing.

Happy Mother's Day

Taking a moment to salute all the mothers out there and especially the ones I've been blessed to interact with or see in action.  For all you've done with love in your heart-- the listening, commiserating, teaching, empowering, cuddles, kisses, and yes, even the disciplining born of love, thank you.  Be thou near or a phone call away, or no longer on this physical plane of existence, thoughts of you are filled with love, thoughts of you are cherished. Happy Mother's Day♥️

The Gift of Gratitude

My recent purchase of Matilda 'Tildy' CoolBreezes (my first AC purchase ever) has me curious about other people's first purchase ever of something that they'd wanted for sometime, and then the acquiring of it, genuinely triggered an inexplicable feeling, for lack of a better word, accomplishment, or better yet, the feelings of gratitude that keeps on giving?  For me, this AC, is my first purchase of something "big" that I've wanted for sometime, and something I bought for myself because of what I believe will be the positive physical, emotional and mental contribution that it will add to my experience of summer (because, I sweat-- it's just very easy for me to sweat-- like a lot).  Now, I've never bought a car, and I don't have my own house.  But as I get older, I think of the things I have that serve not only a personal purpose, but also fill me with gratitude. You wouldn't believe how many times I've thought in passing of how grateful I am for the winter coat I purchased last Fall, or for the winter boots one of my brothers bought me for my birthday two years ago.  I don't have a lot of "things" (and even then, I feel I could do with less) but when I have something that fills me with gratitude, it's like having two gifts in one.  Just felt like sharing :)

AC

Last summer was my first summer in my new place. And though I had three fans going, I practically melted.  Going into this summer, I knew I wanted an air conditioner.

I mentioned it to enough people and one of the folks at work sent me the link for one on Amazon.  I ordered it over the weekend and had it delivered to my place of work.

Now, I work in the city, but live in Brooklyn.

I entertained the thought of using one of those roller gear carts, and a kind hearted soul from work brought his roommate's in for me. But after struggling with the cart a few times  --the AC box was really too big to easily maneuver onto said cart--I came to the conclusion that my heart just wasn't in it.  So, I asked for advice on taking a cab.

I only take the subway and metro bus to get from Point A to Point B, C, D, etc.  Every month, I pay for a 30 day metro pass, so the concept of paying extra for a cab ride isn't something I ever find myself contemplating.  Until today.

The same kind hearted soul at work, proffered some options. I chose one. After work, he helped get my AC downstairs, and then kindly used the app (already on his phone) to call the car service so that everything would be under his name and I could pay him the fee in cash later.

When I finally got home, I called my landlord and got his help mounting my AC.

Full disclosure. I was afraid it wouldn't fit my small window.  Yes, I measured before I made the purchase but there was still a part of me that wasn't sure how tight a fit it would end up being. It ended up being a tight fit, but thank goodness for my landlord!

I couldn't have done this on my own.    I couldn't even lift the unit up to the window box.  I tried. It just wasn't going to happen.  I mean maybe if I had gone back in time and started consistently lifting weights like 6 months. But I can't. Also, even if I had somehow miraculously got it up there, I couldn't have held it in place with one hand, while using the other to assemble the necessary components into place.   This was a two person job.  He did the heavy lifting and maneuvering and I assisted in whatever way he asked me to.  When he was finished I let him know how truly grateful I was and then thanked him in advance for helping me take it down, come Autumn.

I am so happy and so grateful to all the Earth Angels who made this outcome possible for me!

Honestly, this whole experience turned out much better than I could have envisioned 😊

I'm just going to sit here in front of my new AC and count my blessings ❤

Subway Kindness

I'll just close my eyes through the last four stops.

Those were my thoughts as I sat in the subway car headed for my transfer point -- the final stop downtown for this train before it headed back uptown.

Next thing I knew, a lady tapped me   awake.  We were at my stop. I had fallen asleep. I had been more tired than I had realized.

Had she not woken me up, there is a very high likelihood that I wouldn't have until I was headed back in the direction from which I'd just come.

I thanked her as she was already steps ahead out of the car and onto the platform.  I got up, got off and because I could, sped up to catch her.

Tapping her on the shoulder, I thanked her again for being so kind. She assured me that it was no problem, and as we came to the point where our paths diverged, added that I had looked so peaceful. With that, we both laughed and went our separate ways.

I thought of her as I waited for my bus, and again as I walked the last few steps to my front door. What she did was of immense help. I do not take it for granted, and I will always be grateful for it.

Poem: Senses Awakening, Thoughts Forming

I woke up to the rain
but it sounded like the ocean,
Tasting the slight chill in the morning air
I burrowed deeper into the certain warmth of my bed
while the candle of my consciousness flickered in and out between the land of dreams and that which fellow travelers call, "Reality."
Specters of thoughts began to form more coherent shapes--
''Tis a day for cutting class and daydreaming" they whispered, seductively.
But then, the alarm clock,
that town crier of reality barges in, "Work Beckons!"

On the Streets of Brooklyn, A Man and a little Girl,

I was riding the city bus headed uptown, and as we paused at a light, I watched a man and a little girl taking a stroll down the sidewalk, going in the opposite direction.

She looked to be around 2 1/2 - 3 years old, had on a fuzzy white winter hat, a pink coat and checkered patterned pants.  She was definitely at an age where holding her hand especially out in the streets was the expected norm.  As the guardian held on to her right hand, the little girl was taking several licks of a red lollipop in her left.

At one point, the guardian leans down slightly and engages the little one in conversation.  A few seconds later, he leans down further as the little girl generously lifts up her lollipop to allow him a few licks. When she believes him to be done, she brings down the hand. Once again the guardian engages her in conversation and again, with the same sweet generosity of spirit, she raises the lollipop and allows him to take more licks.

As my bus began to move away, the last I saw of them, the guardian had straightened back up and was guiding her through the cross walk.  And though they soon disappeared from view, my mind lingered on the sweet, gentle kindness in that little girl's gesture.

Simply put, she touched my heart.

3/27/17 Cheering. You. On

Brooklyn Botanical Gardens 3/25/17

Sprinting children, racing siblings, cartwheeling, children, parents jogging backwards while pursued by toddlers, hide and go seek behind barely-there-trees followed by squeals of children when spotted by their tag playing parents, hand holding lovers strolling--only pausing to kiss, a gentle cool breeze, all unfolding under a gray snow white carpeted sky: the sounds and sights of time well spent, before the rain starts, at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.

Expressions of Engagement on a Subway Platform

Standing on the subway train as it waited at a stop, the closed door in front of me provided a window to the crowded platform on the opposite side of the track.
About 2 or 3 years of age, leaning forward so that she was pressed against the safety rail of her stroller, intensely focused on something taking place on my side of the train tracks that I couldn’t see, the little girl caught my eye.

She was so engaged, staring at strangers with the open, unwavering curiosity that most adults would have a hard time getting away with on a crowded subway train in New York City, that she made me smile.

Now for the record, this is not to say that adults don’t stare. They do. But in my experience, unless they can do it without getting caught, it’s most often done, surreptitiously. At least in these here parts. And particularly on a crowded subway platform or on public transportation. But as always, there are exceptions.

When the little girl turned upstage towards her right so that I now had a view of the back of her head, both of our focus shifted and immediately rested on another sight.

The woman was in the process of removing her shoes. With its slight curl, her shoulder length fall of black hair, loosely curtained her face as she reached down, curtsy like, --to maintain an upright balance I suppose—and slipped off the thin, grey colored liner sock, before sliding barefoot into a matching grey, open heeled shoe with a large silver buckle. With the same studied, slow execution, she repeated the action with her other foot, paying no mind to any of the travelers on the platform who, in turn, were all doing a brilliant job of not watching her. At least not overtly. Except, of course, for the little girl who was very much looking at her, evidenced now by how much further she had leaned out of her stroller to acquire a better view.

Well, the little girl, and me.

The last I saw of them, as my train began to pull out of the station, the little girl was still watching, as the woman began folding up her liner socks in what appeared to be industrial strength tissue paper.

To the Guardians, a thank you

This one goes out to all the Guardians-- regardless of gender-- the Mothers and Fathers, who are the action verb personified in deeds as well as in thoughts.

This one goes out to the Guardians who take the role as seriously as a surgeon would performing his/her first surgery.

This one goes out to all those who impart loving wisdom to their charges, regardless of age (so what if your "child" is 50?). And, at the same time, are open to learning from them as well.

This one goes out to those who strive to lead from a place of love, those who genuinely, consciously desire a better life experience for those under there guardianship.

You are Mother. You are Father. Sometimes you are both. You are royalty in the hearts of those who salute you by those titles and think upon you with love.

You mirror to child how to navigate the world as best as you can, as best as you know thus far, and at the same time champion child's own inner explorer.

To the Mothers/Fathers, who would like to shield child from the path filled with potential bruises and seeming mistakes, but knows that said child must live his/her life as best as s/he can, and so Father/Mother must trust that Mother/Father has shared the best tools and allow child to build from that loving foundation.

To you, I say, "Thank you." I know it can be so hard. But please know you are making a difference-- not just in the lives of your children, but in the lives of countless others who will interact with your children.  I applaud all of your efforts-- all of it, all of it, counts.

And from my heart, and with all my heart, I wish you many blessings ❤-- A citizen of the world

A Wave and a Smile on the Subway

Sitting on the No. 5 train in Brooklyn headed uptown, I glanced around the mostly empty subway car.  Towards my right, across from me but about six feet down, sat a family of three. A mom, her son and her little daughter.

The little one was asleep in the stroller. She had on a red winter cap and a red coat with heart patterns all over it-- except for the picture of Elmo on the bottom left hand corner.  Lying on her chest was a yellow pacifier.  The Mother was sitting on the edge of the cornflower blue grey seat, leaning towards the stroller, as she scrolled through her silver metallic colored phone.  The young boy, maybe 7 or 8 years old, sat to her right in a black coat, with his blue and black book bag still on his back.  He sat in a manner that brought to my mind images of young boys at church on their best behavior.

At one point, the little girl started to wake up and her mom, alerted to the slightest shift in her daughter, was already looking at her, waiting quietly as the girl journeyed back to the land of consciousness.  When the little one finally, drowsily, opened her eyes, mom and child exchanged a smile before mom placed the pacifier in the girl's mouth. Then, the little one made eye contact with her brother and slowly waved at him. He gave her an answering smile, leaned forward and waved back.

Her little wave, his answering one, the smile on his face, her smiling response, was all so sweet and so unexpected to me, I couldn't help but smile too.

Listening to the Rain

Without warning, the rain announced her presence with a roar.  Suddenly silence was under siege as rain drops pelted the earth like bullets, launching a surprise attack-- physically and emotionally-- on those who, until now, had no cause to fear assault from one so gentle in name.

Three Experiences before 12 noon

First up, because I was about 40 minutes early, I found myself standing outside the shop section of a Yoga studio.  As I stood there looking at the window display of crystals and singing bowls, a little orange and white furred dog and his human companion, crossed behind me.  The next thing I knew, the little dog had come back and I watched his reflection as he nudged at my ankles.  The human companion apologized, but I was so touched by this gesture of sweetness, that I turned around and spent some time stroking, and petting the dog's coat, all the while saying, "Thank you so much for taking the time to say, 'hello' to me!" The dog stayed by my ankles throughout the exchange and it was just such a lovely experience to have.

The second experience took place about 15 minutes later, as I now sat on the gray wood bench in front the Yoga studio. By that point a few people had made their way across the sidewalk in front of me in both directions.  But one lady stopped and engaged me in conversation.  She was a member of the older citizens of the world club.  Her thick, curly, salt and pepper hair framed her face under her knitted winter hat.  She wore sunglasses, and in her hand was a styrofoam cup which, I imagined, temporarily housed a delicious hot beverage perfect for 32 degree weather.

She asked if the studio was opening soon.  I told her I believed it would in 15 minutes. And then, to my surprise, she invited me to come to her place of business about 4 doors down, saying I could be warm and sit on her very comfortable couch. Surprised and charmed, I thanked her for her kindness and generosity but said I would continue to wait. As she walked away, she assured me that if I changed my mind, the offer was still on the table.  The offer was so random and so sweet and so specific in the warmth of its proffered hospitality, that I felt momentarily transported to a different time and place -- a time and place I desired to experience more of-- particularly from strangers-- in this my 21st century life.

My third experience took place about two hours later as I turned a corner and merged into the opposite direction of the oncoming pedestrian traffic.  Suddenly, I heard someone say, "Do!" And another voice chimed in, "A deer, a female deer!"
"Re!"
"A drop of golden sun!"
"Mi!"
"A name, I call myself!"
Out of the corner of my eye, singing the Do Re Mi song in this fashion, was a bundled up lady pushing a stroller. She took the first line and then the little one in the stroller followed up with the next. So committed were they that even as our distance from each other increased, and their voices faded, I had no doubt they would finish singing the song. And it made me smile.  And it made me want to sing along, too🙂