A Boy, His Guardian, and Shopping Bags, Seen on a Bus in Flatbush

Leading with his back, the tension of exertion apparent in his 9 to 11 year old frame, the boy, pausing only to lift, then pull on the handles of one of those large shopping bags on wheels, boarded the bus.  He was followed by a female guardian balancing two very large shopping bags on each shoulder. 

Appearing to be of Hispanic descent, the facial features above their face masks and the way they would later engage with each other had me thinking they were mother and son.

Seeing an open seat right at the front of the bus, the boy gratefully sank into it.  Watching him as she guided one of her bags to the ground, I saw the mother’s eyes sparkle with amusement and felt her smiling behind her face mask.

When a passenger exited at the next stop, the mom, her shoulder still carrying the weight of the other bag, crossed in front of the boy, sat on his right and shifted the bag onto her lap.

He was tired and she acknowledged it. Eyes still a twinkle, she reached out and with great care, great affection, combed her left hand through his short, thick black hair.  When her hand came to rest on his left shoulder, he turned towards the arm, briefly leaning his head against the length of it; a gesture that spoke to me of a young boy comfortable in receiving affection and, despite how tired he was, glad to be able to assist his mother. 

In their silent exchange I felt a communication of love, value and a sense of being present with each other from both sides.

When they reached their stop, he glanced at the bag she had placed on the ground and then back up at her; a silent request for her to exit first. 

As the bus pulled away from their stop and continued south, last I saw of them, they stood on the sidewalk, side by side, facing north, his hands on the shopping bag’s handles, her shoulders once again bearing the weight of the two large bags. I hoped it was the final leg of their journey home. 

Self Observation Re: Loud Sounds

I observed something about myself the other day.

I was sitting on the subway train. An older gentleman got on and sat across from me. About a minute into his journey, I looked up at the sound of loud music. The music sounds were coming from his handheld electronic game device.

This brought up my feelings about audible personal entertainment devices in a shared space.

Actually, it brought up my general feelings about loud sounds—sounds that didn’t have to be loud or sounds that had me wishing people were more aware of how those sounds could be negatively impacting others around them-- in public or shared spaces. Examples that come to mind: loud music in a subway car, music from a car’s speakers that can be heard by all the world not in said car, the neighbor’s party with a DJ on a microphone still going strong well after midnight, someone in the neighborhood setting off fireworks well after midnight everyday for about two weeks before a national holiday—the kind of fireworks that startles me awake, the kind of fireworks I feel in my heart.

I have a sensitivity to loud sounds. I think there’s a bit of nature involved there, but also some nurture. I was raised in a household where I had to be aware of how loud I was being. I learned not to slam cupboards. I learned to walk quietly and, if someone was sleeping nearby, extra quietly.

When the older gentleman got off the train, I went back to the Duolingo lesson playing on my phone through my earphones 😉

After a few stops, the subway car door opened up and a lady with a baby stroller and a girl of about 7 or 9 got on. In the stroller sat a little boy with a pacifier in his mouth.

I went back to my lesson.

Minutes later, I looked up to the sound of the Baby Shark song coming from the lady’s cellphone, sitting perched on the stroller’s ledge in front of the little boy. Transfixed, he watched the images that accompanied the video. I found myself smiling at his concentration.

When a seat opened up across from me, the little girl ran to it while the lady stopped the video and took back the cellphone. The little boy, quite unhappy with this, vocalized a wail of disappointment.

Realizing there was only space enough for one, the lady (I think it’s safe to call her, “Mom” from now on) had the little girl get back up. Then she maneuvered the stroller in such a way that the girl could sit on her lap with the stroller parked sideways in front of them. This allowed the mom to perch the phone back on the stroller’s ledge where all three of them could see the screen. The next song, an educational piece that included the words, “Thank you” and “sorry”, woke up the sleeping customer next to them.

This is when I made that observation about myself—the one I mentioned at the start of this piece 😉

I realized that I found it acceptable that this very little one could watch something loudly playing on a handheld device, but I wished that the older gentleman from before had on earphones.

Thinking on it further I realize it’s also the story I’m telling myself about what I’m experiencing, not just how the experience feels to my system. All loud sounds aren’t created equally. Some loud sounds can’t be helped. Sounds from a construction job for example. The sounds of the jackhammer or the power saws are far from soothing to my system. But it can’t be helped as they’re necessary to the job being done. As long as the job being done is during the day time.

One summer job at a medieval faire housed me on site with five other people. Apart from one couple, the rest of us were strangers. The first two nights, one of my cabin mates insisted on using power tools well into the night. On the third day, a senior member of the cast moved onto the site. That night, when he heard that power tool, he went outside and told its owner it was much too late in the night for all that noise. It never happened again.

So, you see, it’s the loud sounds that can be helped but aren’t, that often have me feeling some kind of way, and often leave me wondering, “Why??” 

Synching with my Inner Rhythms

 

August of 2020, I began using the Duolingo app to learn French.  It was mentioned to me in passing and there was a free learning option, so I decided, “Why not?” 

I’d taken two semesters of French for the language requirement in high school, and, practically starting from scratch, another semester of it during undergrad.  This time around, after so many, many years of never using it, not having / not creating opportunities to practice outside of the class I was enrolled in, I was, once again, starting from scratch 🙃

Throughout the rest of 2020, every now and then I’d go on the app, do a lesson, pat myself on the back, and get on with the rest of my day.  I’d receive email notifications about how I was doing, or reminders to login and do a lesson.  But it was a relatively stress free experience.

At some point in 2021, I began to go on more frequently and by the end of the year, I was doing at least one lesson a day.

I think it was around the start of 2022 when I noticed/ decided to explore some of the other  “tabs” at the bottom of the app.  One such tab led me to the Leaderboard.  The Duolingo Leaderboard is where you find yourself competing with others in your league.  I write “where you find yourself” because, I wasn’t conscious of being in a league or being in competition with others. 

Ok, I faintly remember some email notifications congratulating me for being in something like the Obsidian League.  But those were just words; I hadn’t taken the time to truly understand them.  As far as I was concerned, I was just putting in practice time and learning. 

Well, on that fateful leaderboard discovery day, I learned that I was in the Diamond League. Apparently, I had gone from Bronze, Silver, Gold, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald, Amethyst, Pearl, Obsidian, and into the highest league possible.

From that moment on, I increased the number of lessons I did per day.  And as I accrued points, I watched myself move up or down the board to see where I ended up at the end of the week.

Folks who were in places 1-3 got to move on to the next league. Since Diamond was the highest, folks in that league would stay there.  Those in places 4-24, were fine and would continue on in their current league.  Places 25 and up were labeled as being in the Demotion Zone. 

In a very short amount of time, I got tired.  I knew more French.   But I got tired of my personal goal of trying to stay in the top 13. 

I was so tired of competing, I began to wonder what would happen if I was in the Demotion Zone. Answer: I’d be sent back a league.

I got annoyed. I just wanted to focus on learning at my own pace without being “demoted” because I didn’t meet someone else’s standards.

Duolingo Internet Query:  Can I continue learning at my own pace without being in a league of any kind? 

Answer:  Yes!

So, I changed my settings to private and voilà, the leaderboard (aka unnecessary stress), disappeared.

Admittedly, the first day of going at my own pace without seeing how many folks were ahead of or behind me felt odd. Periodically checking in throughout that day’s lessons:

Me:  How do you feel?

Body: I’m breathing.

Me: Elaborate please.

Body:  Breathing is more aligned with inner rhythms.  No compulsion to stay on and do extra lessons in order to keep up with whomever.

Me: That sounds great.

Self: It feels…great!

Me: You’re right! It does feel great!

*Fist Bump* 😉

It’s been a few weeks now, and it still feels great to move at the pace aligned with my own inner rhythms 🙂 I’m glad I made that decision.