Happy New week and New Year for upcoming 2019

 Welcoming you into a new week and the soon to be start of a brand-new year. Your 2018 mattered. You impacted lives, you gave comfort, you did some conscious work to heal wounds, you made empowering decisions, you cared, you loved, you took lemons and made lots of lemonade, in your own time you cleaned your sink full of dirty dishes, you said some necessary goodbyes and welcomed some unexpected hellos, you picked yourself up, you thought about what was important to you, you spoke up, you took some trips on the road to inner peace, you contemplated perspectives, and you may or may not have, metaphorically, thrown rolled up socks at someone. 2019 will likely have you revisiting some of the aforementioned, with some additional expected and unexpected experiences thrown into the mix. Whatever comes up, trust that you’ll work through it as best as you can, allow space for healing, nurture loving self-empowerment, and remember, you don’t have to go at it alone. C. Y. O. Xx

Standing in line at Whole Foods

I’ve been mentally revisiting an interaction I had recently.  An interaction that still has me smiling.  A few days ago, I was standing in line at Whole Foods. There were three lines, already with single customers, and I just picked the first one. After a few seconds of standing, the signal for the customer in the third line came on, and so that person headed off to a register. This left that third line empty. This all unfolded on the periphery of my right eye’s line of sight. I noticed it but didn’t think too much of it. Now, the guy in line #2 looked at the newly vacated spot, and then looked over in my direction. A few seconds later, new customers joined the line and stood directly behind him, leaving line #3 still empty. When I finally made eye contact with the guy, he encouragingly gestured his head towards the empty line in a manner that had me laughing and appreciating his sweetness. I laughed because it reminded me of the head gesture the guitarist gives Rivers Cuomo in the Weezer video, Perfect Situation— the one that encourages Rivers to come out on stage to sing. And it was sweet, because it was. He didn’t have to signal to me, but he did. And this meant I was now third in line to be called to the register as opposed to fourth. It’s funny sometimes the things that stay with us :)

Two Perspectives on a Subway Platform

While waiting on the subway platform with the after work crowd, I glanced over just in time to see a little girl and boy engaged in play.  The little girl, her hair in two ponytails— one slightly askew, wore a bright orange coat, and had a lollipop in her mouth.  The little boy, his gaze primarily downwards, yet no less exuberant,  wore his dark, straight as rain hair in a bowl cut.  Both looked to be around 5 years of age.  Being the only little ones in the loosely assembled crowd, and being the only ones engaged in what appeared to be a circle chase game of round and round, they immediately drew my attention.

I watched them go round and round, much joy evident in their chase. But they also appeared to be delighted with themselves— such was the glee that sang through their movements, their giggling, their expressions. I couldn’t help but happily bear witness and share in their delight. 

Next, having made their way through the turnstiles, came their two adult guardians. 

The adults, albeit quietly, kept trying to get the children to stop.  Arms outstretched, they kept making corralling movements— attempting to round them up into a contained corner.  Their focus was clearly on making sure they didn’t rush towards the platform edge next to the train tracks. 

As an observer, there was something to be said for being able to see both perspectives. I could feel the innocence and delight in the children’s joy and at the same time understand the guardians’ protective inclinations.  

Last I saw, as the subway train pulled into the station, the kids had stopped the circling chase game and replaced it with what appeared to be a dancing game. And as they grooved to the music most often heard only by the young, the adults, still maintaining vigilance, relaxed their attempts at corralling .

Poem: What I Would Have Said Before You Went Away (Jen Leo Renaud, RIP)

To you, my dear, navigating heartfelt pain, the kind that has you feeling wrecked,

has you feeling tied down, lying on the floor in the darkest of rooms, has you feeling besieged on all sides by your demons and worst fears— and your demons’ worst fears, has you feeling crippled, anxious, trapped in the quicksand of a seemingly never ending bottomless grief, I am so sorry. I wish I could help you understand the why. I wish I could help you heal the pain. I wish. Please know I’m standing next to you. Enveloping you in my heart. Loving you through this— no matter how long this, and remember, please remember, we’ve overcome before. Both you and I, somehow, we’ve overcome. So, “Mourn. Cry. Rage. Storm!” But also allow, give permission, be open to seeing the slivers of healing, softly, piercing through the curtains. Your grief is valid, Your pain is valid, And so is your healing.

Poem: A Shoutout to the Healers

To the givers,
the ones who do the kind thing.
Even when stressed,
the dependables,
whose instinct is to help beings
and do.
Even when it comes out gruff,
there’s never truly any doubt of intent
as you see the act through.
But especially
to the ones growing
into healthy boundary setters,
adding your peace of heart plus mind
into the equation too, thank you.
Thank you
for all the caring you do for others.
And thank you
for starting to care for you.
(Cheering. You. On. Xx)

French

Sitting on the subway train on my commute home, some French speaking passengers board and suddenly it hits me, in aural technicolor, how very sexy the language does sound 🤔Or maybe it was the confidence and joy evidenced in the musicality of their speech coupled with the energy of their exchange😜

A few stops later, after they’d exited, I glanced up to see a young man reading a book.  It was a learning how to speak French book!

Poem: A New Day Dawns— Cheering. You. On. Xx

“Places! Places!” The morning birds call out.

A new day dawns on the earth stage.

Improvisational skills, to varying degrees, at the ready,

Scripts in hand,

We take our places,

Await our cues.

In some parts we are the writers, re-writers, Director, crew.

In some parts we are the leads,

In some parts, seemingly, volunteer extras.

We’ll play our part though.

We’ll do it to the best of our abilities.

Cheering. You. On. Xx

Poem: If You Can Speak Up?

If you can speak up?

Speak up. And speak loud.

Some of us have laryngitis.

Some of us, too proud.

Some of us, afraid, uncertain.

Some of us, no words

but searching 

for a way to express 

the niggling in our chest.

So when you appear,

giving voice to a recognized fear,

you speak up for you

but if in your truth I share,

you speak up for me, too,

making the journey of healing

a shared affair.

So, if you can speak up?

Taking a step towards healing?

Humanity benefits

when all share in that feeling.

If you can speak up?

Speak up. And speak loud. 

Poem: Healing

What if healing, like Waldo, was always on the scene?
And in this believing,
heartfelt before the seeing?
What if healing, like Waldo, is always on the scene?
But instead of looking outside,
we carefully looked within?
What if?

Music

Music. The amazing power of music! I’ve watched folks getting their dance on, singing/lip singing with all the passion of the original artists, be so taken over— so moved, so full-filled by the music playing that they just can’t care what anyone else looking on is thinking. That was me this morning with some Jon Secada. Grooving in my seat in the subway car, watching the video, cheering him on when he burst into that church! I couldn’t help myself 😊 Music. The magic that is music. What a gift♥️ I’m so elated to live in a world with so much music, such an aural, all you can eat buffet that gives my spirit exactly what it needs when I make the  connection. I hope your day is full of glorious music♥️

Poem: I Once Stapled a Piece of Paper to my Finger

I once stapled a piece of paper to my finger.

It wasn’t on purpose.

A sixth sense registered it was about to happen 

but action, already set in motion, demanded I see it through to fruition.

And, perhaps because of the forewarning, when the staple pierced my skin,

I didn’t cry out,

rationalizing,

it would have felt excessive. Melodramatic.

But in the years since, 

when I think back, 

in random moments such as this,

if I could go back in time,

to that instant moment after,

even with knowing what was about to happen,

maybe I would cry out,

so as not to shortchange me of the vocal experience 😬😜😊

Poem: Evening Beckons

Pearlescent white clouds softens in evening 

gentling the empath in me.

The strains, stresses and chaos of the day, forgiven, almost forgotten, 

as I breathe in the peace

transforming into honey

flowing through my veins.

Gratitude, instinctive,

before consciousness drops in.

Gratitude, recognized,

prolongs the feeling.

Writing Prompt— Dream Romantic Relationship

I might be labeled a late bloomer when it comes romantic love.  I’ve had two romantic relationships in my life. Both in my 30ties. I had secret crushes in the past but these were the ones in which fate intervened, in more ways than one, and they expressed interest and my romantic and willing heart reciprocated.  

In the first, we seemed to start off together but ended with me chasing and in the chasing leaving myself behind. When I stopped chasing— it had become too painful not to stop, I made the decision to commit to healing. I made the decision to commit to forgiving myself. I made the decision to commit to forgiving him. The forgiving was massively important to me. I chose it. You see, he had warned me and I didn’t listen. 

In the beginning of the attraction stage, getting to know each other and sharing our hearts, he had told me that once he felt he could depend on someone, he resented them.  I didn’t listen. Instead I remember thinking I would be the exception to this. And as I had no other reciprocated romantic experiences prior to this, nor witnessed healthy, loving real life romantic relationships, when he ran, it made sense to chase until he was long gone and I got lost.   So healing and forgiving and committing to listening was important. And I did. 

The second relationship, I ended. He was a gentleman.  I liked him but we weren’t on the same page about some huge life wants. I knew from the beginning. He told me. And every time he mentioned it, I felt something inside me shrink. In the first relationship I had chosen not to listen to what was said.  I wasn’t going to make that error in judgment again. And so I listened to him, and I listened to me. I knew if I finally gave in to the desire of expressing that life want, he could say, “I told you, I couldn’t”, and he would be correct and I would, once again, have left a part of me behind.  So, even though the experience of him was closer to ideal, it wasn’t completely. And to settle, would be at the expense of my peace of mind and heart. And that was too expensive. So, even as I made the right decision for me, my heart ached, my tears flowed, and we went our separate ways.  Those two experiences and the many conscious thoughts and observations that have visited and continue to visit to this day, have contributed to where I am on this area of my life at this present time.

To quote Fabolous and Neyo:

“I'm a movement by myself

But I'm a force when we're together

Mami, I'm good all by myself

But, baby, you, you make me better”

It feels loving. It feels healing. It feels sacred. It feels fun. It feels passionate. It feels compassionate. It feels inspiring. It feels honest. It feels like a deep, fulfilling, nourishing breath.

A partner in every sense of the word.

Teaching and learning from each other. Modeling for each other through observed and experienced verbal and non verbal interactions with ourselves, with each other, with others whose paths we cross.

Able to share comfortable silences.

Able to laugh.

Each able to express huge emotions and know all are safely held, safely witnessed, safely released.

Each communicating.

Each listening on all levels. 

Each able to accept the other’s alone time without fear

Each free and supported to explore that which nourishes their spirit.

And together, in harmony, when it comes to that which feels like non-negotiable life wants.

All this or something better 😉

Grappling

Sitting in the discomfort of ill fitting emotions, I judge feeling this way. All I did was speak up, and in speaking up give voice to my annoyance at the perception of your attempt to steam roll over my concerns with talking over me and volume. Well, I replied in kind.   Choosing not to quietly take it as I have in the past. But admittedly, splitting the difference between past reaction and real time frustration, I threw into the mix that smiling thing. That thing where I “smile” because I can’t believe your attempt to slap away-belittle-my-concerns-and-I “smile” because if I don’t I will come across angry, which I AM in the moment but am not ready or comfortable embodying in that particular interaction. And now, hours later, I’m angry at you and a little disappointed in me.  The only potential consolation being maybe by my speaking up even through the “smiling”, you were made uncomfortable too. Uncomfortable in a “good” way. Uncomfortable enough to reassess how you interact with me in the future— not trying to talk over me and belittle my concerns because I. Will. Push. Back.  So here I now sit. Second guessing one’s right to be perfectly herself in a moment that calls forth in her, ANGER at the EFFRONTERY of another.  The terrain, unsteady, the temperature, fire.

A Sync in the Subway Station

After work rush hour. Standing on the crowded downtown subway platform, staring off into space.  Refocusing into the present moment, my eyes sweeping over the equally crowded uptown platform, I pause. And smile. Sitting comfortably in his (or her) guardian’s bag, a little white dog, with just the head poking out, is also taking in the sights and sounds of both the uptown and downtown platforms. And for a moment, I watch him watch others. And in that moment, feeling a little more alive, feeling some of the day’s stress fade away, I’m grateful for everything that made it possible to have the experience♥️

Connections on a Bus

Sitting on the express bus, I noticed, and later became engaged in, an exchange between two women.  

Lady #1 had been sitting on the outside section of a two seater, next to a vacant window seat. Lady #2 got on the bus with about 5 overflowing grocery bags and indicated to Lady #1 that she wanted to take the window seat.  Although clearly puzzled, Lady #1 carefully shifted to make room, explaining that her careful movements were due to some leg issues. Lady #2 thanked her and squeezed three of her bags into the window seat area, left the other bags close to the bus aisle— near Lady #1’s feet, and went back to pay her fare.  When she returned, Lady #1 gave voice to her puzzlement.  

Indicating the trio of empty seats stationed directly across from where I was, she asked why Lady #2 couldn’t sit there.  It was a section of the bus open to everyone but primarily understood to be for the elderly or the handicapped should the need arise.  Lady #2 apologized and explained that she didn’t want to have to get up again if a handicapped or elderly person showed up who needed that area.  Understanding, Lady #1 once again moved to create a path to the window seat.  While this was happening, Lady #2, perhaps noticing they both had West African accents, asked where Lady #1 was from. “Nigeria,” came the reply.  Lady #2 then shared that she was also from Nigeria.  She was Yoruba and Lady #1 said she was from Edo State.  

Surprised, I now entered the conversation stating my parents were from Edo State and that I was Esan (ethnic group). Lady #1 broke into such a beautiful, warmth filled smile and started speaking to me in my language! I told her where my parents had been born and learned that her mother was born in the same village as my father! I shared that I had been born in Lagos, but came to the states at age 9.  She shared she was turning 70 the next day— to which Lady #2 and I exclaimed how fantastic she looked!!

My stop came first and so after we exchanged goodbyes and all the bests, I made my way to my next destination, marveling at how wonderful it was to have had that experience and grateful for the roles both ladies had played in making it possible:) 

Exchange Inspired by N.S.’ story in W.E. — the story of S&T (8/19/18)

“But how do you know when a person is ‘the one?’” She asked, hands held up in quotations just seconds before falling to her lap.

Her Aunt smiled her secret smile. “Sometimes, you just know.”

Silence filled the room while she pondered her next question.

Then tentatively, because, even though she was only in her 11th year of life, an innate knowing often counseled, as it did now, and she listened and knew that some subjects required a gentle approach. “Are you ever sad you haven’t met your ‘one?’”

“I used to be— just ask your mother,” Aunty replied quirking her brow in amusement. “When she met your father, she knew— and it was doubly good news for her since that meant she was no longer enrolled in Mama’s impromptu ‘I Want Grandchildren’ Lectures. With my little sister graduating, your grandmama could now focus all of her attention on me. And I was so thrilled.”  Aunty deadpanned, and her audience of one erupted into giggles.

A beat later, adopting a more affectionate tone, she continued.  “No, I was thrilled for your mother.  And at the same time it was hard for me.  But then, as is sometimes the case with the passage of time coupled with a determination of spirit, I decided I could either focus on the hard or find a way to thrive.  So, I worked on trusting that if it was meant to happen for me, then it would. And in the interim, I could simply be happy for all those for whom it did happen.”

i love you so much

I love you so much.

I love you so much it’s instinctive to give you solutions masked as advice on how to navigate issues you bring to my attention unfolding in your life.  I’m younger, yes, but I like to think I’m an old soul and so the advice I proffer carries a bit more weight

I love you so much I offer advice when something has happened as opposed to the advice you offer seemingly out of the blue but actually is more akin to a well-known tune because I’ve heard it over and over and over again throughout the years

I love you so much I’m so heart sad to know my life is lacking on some level to you.

I love you so much I allow all I can allow until enough is enough and I have no other defense but to say, “Stop!” and walk away

I love you so much I do the inner work to understand why you say what you say because it helps me to forgive, widens my compassion and teaches me what not to perpetuate

I love you so much I’m trying to figure out how to let you be you while being my best self even though letting you be you sometimes affects me being my best self

I love you so much I hope both of our dreams come through for my life in all ways that makes both parties so very happy

I love you so much I’m consistently asking for divine assistance on surrendering our relationship, consistently asking for divine guidance on how best to proceed

An Exchange on the Bus

With two armloads of shopping bags,  courtesy of my trip to Target, I was first in line as the bus pulled up to my pickup point.  As I maneuvered myself on, fare card in hand, podcast playing in my ear, the bus driver waved his fingers at me. 

I was caught off guard. He was wearing shades so I couldn’t read his expression and due to the volume of my podcast, I wasn’t entirely certain the gesture had been accompanied by words.  These observations along with the awareness of the line of people still waiting to board behind me, I quickly shifted my bags, dislodged one of my ear buds and said, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Nothing,” he replied with ease. “I was just waving at you.”

Basically, he’d just been engaging in a nonverbal hello.

And it was so pleasantly unexpected, that on the heels of his response, I beamed with unexpected joy and said, “Well, hello! Hi! Thank you!”

I then dipped my fare card to pay, before making my way to a seat further into the bus.

Do you know that brief exchange had me smiling my entire bus ride?  To the point that, as I was exiting via the back, when he looked up at the rear view mirror, I waved enthusiastically at him.  I was still headed a few steps in the direction he was going, and he actually waited as I was passing by the front entrance, to say a verbal goodbye, before driving off.  

I think the experience touched me because it surprised me as well as felt like he took the time to initiate connecting with me in such a simple, grounded and pleasant way. It was surprising because often, though not always, I’m the one initiating hellos to the drivers whose buses I board.

Because he had his shades on during our brief encounter, I’m uncertain I’ll recognize him if I ever see him again.  But the exchange lives on in memory where I’m certain to pay a return visit.

Welcome to a new week (July 1st - 7th)

Hello :) I wanted to take the opportunity to welcome you into a new week.  All the best to you with how you’ll process everything you’ll experience.  And no matter what transpires, especially when there may be difficulties, may we be secure in the knowledge that any amount of light we choose to shine, or choose to let in, will always make a difference. So let us be vigilant and nurturing of said light and many thanks to those who’ll help us remember that light in the unfolding moment. Take beautiful care. C.Y.O. Xx

Seen from within the Laundromat

Sitting on a bench inside the Laundromat, I glanced over to the outside world and at that very moment, saw an elderly looking man sporting a smile and a fro full of gray, stroll by on a bicycle, squinting at the light caused by the glare of the early morning sun.  Something about him, and the brief observation touched my heart. Maybe it was simply the combination of his smile, catching him at this seemingly leisurely leg of his morning adventure, and a respect for the many suns he’s experienced hinted at by his head of gray.  Maybe he made me think of my father. Maybe I just applauded his being out and about this early on what forecasters predict will be the first of a consecutive trio of hot days thus far this summer. In many ways, it doesn’t matter why he touched my heart but that his fleeting presence did touch my heart and make me smile.  And I’m “greedy” enough to request more inexplicable experiences such as this throughout all of my days.

Inspired By Lisa Transcendence Brown 6/25/18 Cosmic Energy Report

Where is it not working?
  

What are you allowing, supporting, perpetuating, tolerating as being OK, that’s not really OK?

Where are you juggling ego energies or overly extending yourself to “keep the peace” even if it means shortchanging your “peace”, shortchanging your right to peace?

Now don’t get me wrong and put words in my mouth-- this isn’t about giving zero F*#cks.

It’s actually about giving a great big passionate one about your inner world, your integrity, your spirit, your soul and playing your part to make your one true house (at least in this lifetime) a home.

What are the choices you can make that are aligned with pure, respectful, considerate, kind, empowering experiences of love emanating from you?

What is pure, considerate, kind, empowering love for you?

Define that for you. Start there. Then begin using that, allowing that, to pave the path for your every decision, interaction, thought.

Your contribution to your genuine inner peace, joy, healing, thriving is worth it.

Happy Father's Day June 2018

To all the fathers committed to helping to raise healthy, happy, regardless of age, spirits having a human experience, thank you for the care, the consciousness and the intention to lovingly assist, as best you can, those under your guardianship as they navigate their journey. On this Father’s Day, and always, may your path be strewn with blessings upon blessings <3

A Longing

I wish we were friends.

Of course that means I currently think we are not friends

And that can only mean I wish you would change so that we could be friends,

But I am aware enough to know that to want to change you is, unfair.

I am also aware enough that I can really only commit to changing me

If that means I’m changing me for the better (I know what it’s like to change me not for the better.  I got lost once. I’d rather not get that lost ever again).

The thing is, I find, in some ways, incrementally, that I am changing me.

But I don’t think this will make us friends.

If anything, I just envision the distance growing.

So.

I guess. In alignment with the little changes I’m making,

I’ll just continue to wish you well and keep surrendering our relationship

To be what it is meant to be and to feel peace however it unfolds.

Working through things

The other day, I was energetically thrown by something outside of me— the thing itself and my reaction to it. And then, I contributed to the experience by adding stones to my pockets— “What can I do?”, “I have to figure this out!”— etc. And then, I got upset with those in the vicinity for not playing the role I felt they should play— which was really born out of comparing them to others I know would have acted differently in the same situation.

I did some writing on it before I went to bed, acknowledging how weighted down the whole experience still made me feel. I was able to shift some of the heaviness via the writing and other tools that helped me feel more centered, and when I woke up the next day, I felt better. And in feeling better, I realized the comparison game I had been playing the day before was never going to help me navigate the situation— never ever ever. That split focus in energy was siphoning off what I could have used to maintain calm or try to maintain calm. But I also realized that inspite of that, I still did do the best that I could in the moment that things were unfolding— both during the main event, as well as later with the writing and centering tools before going to bed. This morning, after sinking my feet into the carpet of those realizations, as I was getting ready for my day, I happened upon this “random” little feather. My second “random” feather this week :)  It made me feel like I was being cheered on :). So now, I’d like to take the opportunity to pass on the love as you navigate the expected and unexpected. Holding space for our ultimately making those inner connections that move us closer to living inner peace both in the moment and during mental playbacks—however that inner peace uniquely looks and feels to us. C.Y.O. Xx

Angels afoot? ;)

As I woke up this morning, slowly emerging from my bed, I pushed aside my blanket, and sat up with my feet dangling off the side for a few seconds. In the act of crossing one ankle above the other, I noticed this tiny feather anchored, rather firmly, into the underside of my left sock. The sight gave me pause, then made me laugh. And then I took several pictures so I could show you (the ones you see are the ones that made the cut 😜). Now, I put these socks on yesterday after my evening shower. I’m quite certain that I would have noticed this feather if it had been there. But in truth, it isn’t a mystery I’m needing to solve😉 Just like the feather is anchored into the sock (I left it there— I think it’s still there), I find myself firmly anchored into what I’d like to call the magic of it all 😊. I was trying to think of captions for my pics. All I got was, Angels afoot (get it? cause it’s a feather on my sock which is on my foot 😬) 🤣😄May your today be kissed with lighthearted experiences of magic 😊 C.Y.Oxx    

Mental snapshot of kindness, Riding the Bus

Mental snapshot of kindness.  On the first leg of my morning commute, the bus had already begun pulling away from the stop when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a woman who had been running up to catch it, slow down in defeat. But right on the heels of that, another passenger, who had also noticed, immediately, passionately, called out, “Wait! Wait! Someone’s coming!” And then the domino of that kindness culminated with the bus driver coming to a stop, and allowing the grateful runner, now joined by a few others, to board. Looking over at the helpful passenger— just as she made eye contact — I grinned, saluting her with a double, one handed thumbs up.  That made her laugh.  While those who benefited from her alerting the driver will never know the role she played, I did.  It was awesome of her. And I wanted her to know.

Seen on the Subway, Mother and Daughters

Sitting on the downtown train during my after work commute home, out of the corner of my eye, I observed the mom of two mini doppelgängers, helping the older of the girls with her workbook homework.  Possibly ages 8 and 5, they sat on either side of her, affection unmistakable as she was the magnet they both curled towards.  

Now, not only was she making use of the train ride to see that the work was being addressed, but at several points during the journey, when the girl was clearly having a difficult time with the work, the mother kept calm and focused, giving her time to express her frustration and then patiently kept guiding her back to the work at hand.  Playing the role of determined teacher, mom pointed often to something in the workbook, and nodded her head to emphasize a point.  

The younger girl kept herself focused on what may have been a game on her mother’s phone. And once, during a pause in the lesson, when the older was rummaging for something in her book bag, the mother joined the younger, looking intently at the mystery unfolding on the screen.  

When the train reached the end of the line and everyone rushed off, the last I saw of them, they were on the platform, mom still in the middle, but now holding hands, making their way towards the station’s exit.  Seeing that the older girl had traded in the workbook for a solitary homework sheet sturdily supported by a folder and the younger still held on to the phone, I found myself thinking there was probably still at least one more leg left in their journey.

Encounter on the subway platform

Yesterday, after work, as I stood on the downtown platform waiting for my train to arrive, another commuter came over. And stood right next to me.

But why? Was my first thought.  You see, to my mind, a relatively ghost town of a platform meant not necessarily having to stand side by side since there was, in fact, all this unpeopled, unclaimed, expanse of ground as far as the eyes could see.  By now, you may have guessed that I’m not one naturally inclined to gather with the masses.  If ever there are crowds involved, I tend to find a less populated spot to wait. 

Okay, I’ll just wait for the train and walk a few cars down when it arrives.  But on the heels of that thought, the commuter who, upon closer observation, was an older looking gentleman, signaled to get my attention.

Turning down my podcast, and taking out one of my earbuds, I heard him inquire if the next train was headed to Flatbush.  I confirmed that it was, unless, due to the current snow storm, it ended up being re-routed.  He asked if I was going to Flatbush. I was.  He then asked if I’d let him know when we got there.  Being someone who has greatly benefited from travel directions / assistance from kind strangers, I found myself flashing a smile and saying, “Sure.” 

When the train arrived, we boarded together and at first stood next to each other. But at some point during the 45 minute commute, we each found seats, and maintained a general sense of where the other was.

As we pulled into our destination, we made eye contact once again, and together, got up and headed towards the exiting turnstiles. During our brief walk he shared with me that he was from Guyana and had only been here three months.  He was still figuring out how to get around, but had encountered very nice, helpful people along the way.

I almost missed out on this pleasant exchange, I thought to myself. 

When we reached the turnstiles, we exchanged goodbyes and went our separate ways.  

But not really.  

I mean, yes, literally, we did. But it’s an interaction I’ll remember, an interaction likely to weigh in on future interactions with others in similar circumstances, so, in a way, it’ll always be with me. 

And it’s one I can say, without a doubt, that I don’t mind carrying around :) 

Seen on the Bus: Mother and Child on an early Wednesday morning

Sitting on the bus during the first leg of my morning commute, a mother, her hands full of child and stroller, boarded.

Leading with the stroller, which, even in its folded-up state made me think of a large baby carriage, deftly, she slid it into the space under the seat with her right hand, while steadily supporting her child on her lap with her left.

The child was bundled up.  In addition to the winter coat with the hood on, firmly, a lighter blanket, somehow fastened to stay in place, was draped over everything below the eyes— big brown eyes, made even more so by the unmasked inquisitiveness of its owner.

Barely settled on the throne that was his mother’s knee (I felt the child was a young boy), he immediately pointed at something off the bus.  Mom, cradling him closer with so much unmistakable love, pointed along, listening to and answering questions in turn— the exchange too low for me to understand.

At one point, the child leaned away from her— body curving backwards, limbo like (making me wonder with a smile, “how low can you go?”)— to get a better view of the passengers getting on the bus. I imagined those big brown eyes somehow managing to get larger to take in all the new.

By the time the bus pulled up to their stop, it was quite full. I found myself nodding in gratitude when a gentleman offered and then assisted with the baby carriage, affording her the opportunity to more securely cradle her precious bundle and make their way of the bus.

Waiting for the Train

Evening rush hour on a crowded subway platform.  There were extensive delays on the express track headed downtown.

As a means to zen, or perhaps to self distract, many of the assembled adults read or interacted with electronic handheld devices.

Across the way, the uptown express track platform was also heavily peopled.

Weaving their way through that crowd, was a family of four— a mother, two boys, 14 and 12 respectively, and a girl, possibly 10 or 11, her dark fall of hair swinging from side to side in a ponytail hitting mid back.

But while the mother walked at a steady enough pace, the kids, as a result of their fancy footwear, were having fun alternating between walking and gliding— the latter, literally, giving the impression of skating across the platform in sneakers.

At one point, the younger ones took turns holding on to the very confident oldest, hitching a ride as he glided for a stretch, then came to a stop. Then glided again, then stopped, all the while openly enjoying his time in the limelight.

Their giggling, their expressions of delight and their gliding footwear all had me smiling — a welcomed breath of fresh air from my, at the time, 45+ minutes of come-on-where-are-you-train waiting.