Living for Moments
I was talking to co-worker today. We talked about when people die, what happens. Sounds rather morbid but it was a casual light hearted conversation really. He asked me what I thought of the resurrection. I didn't have much to say. He said that he believes that people come back but they look different. I said that anything is possible I suppose. Sometimes I meet a person and they seem so familiar to me. But there is no rhyme or reason to it. We've never met, but something is so close to my heart about them. Then we might remain friends or we might not.
Today I went to the store. And when I left I was standing on a busy corner. Lots of traffic and the sun was beating down. A tall skinny kid approaches on his bicycle. He flies through the intersection and as he passes he looks into my eyes and says "I love you." Then he's gone. I'm confused. Really? I look like shit. The way he said it was so clear and with intent. Like he delivered a message to me. Sometimes people do that to be funny. But he wasn't laughing. And for a split second, before I realize that the walk signal has been lit for over a minute now, I think about how closely he looked like my grandpa in his youth. Like that's how my grandpa would have looked when he used to deliver papers as a young boy.
I can't explain moments like that. Brent and I left our cat at my in laws house for the week. We had to travel for the funeral unexpectedly and the cat needed to be transported somewhere where he could be watched. We left him there for a day in a half while we were busy. When we went back to see him he was chirping for us to follow him through the house, as if to show us all the places he'd been hanging out in the house. Brent stepped outside to clean the car and I followed Maris through the house. First he took me to the stairs. Then to a bedroom and a bathroom. He rubbed himself up against every corner: "And this is where I play. And this is where I lay." He took me down a long hallway. Into a closet. Out of the closet. Into another room. And eventually wound himself around the room to a window and perched himself in the sill, inviting me to come look outside with him. It was like a fun maze he took me through and he felt as if he brought me to the final destination. He was so still and he looked at me. I followed his frisky eyes to the outside and there, in such beautiful sunlight, was the woods that lined the side of their house. But it was so quiet and still and peaceful. Maris squinted his eyes at me as if to tell me to wait and be still. I hadn't been still in over 48 hours and I began to cry. It may sound silly but stillness can bring such clarity. I do believe that something captivated Maris enough to have the sense to bring me to a stop. I can't explain these moments.
Even though I work with no one most days, and I sit in my office and type blogs or read articles, I am not always very still. I am thinking and buzzing about in my head. I lose connection with what's really going on.
Was it my grandpa's soul in that kid's body when he said I love you? Was it my grandpa's soul in Maris when he brought me to look out the window? I don't know. If you believe in that sort of thing it could be true.
Whatever you or I believe, it doesn't matter. I just know that I live for those types of moments.
Today I went to the store. And when I left I was standing on a busy corner. Lots of traffic and the sun was beating down. A tall skinny kid approaches on his bicycle. He flies through the intersection and as he passes he looks into my eyes and says "I love you." Then he's gone. I'm confused. Really? I look like shit. The way he said it was so clear and with intent. Like he delivered a message to me. Sometimes people do that to be funny. But he wasn't laughing. And for a split second, before I realize that the walk signal has been lit for over a minute now, I think about how closely he looked like my grandpa in his youth. Like that's how my grandpa would have looked when he used to deliver papers as a young boy.
I can't explain moments like that. Brent and I left our cat at my in laws house for the week. We had to travel for the funeral unexpectedly and the cat needed to be transported somewhere where he could be watched. We left him there for a day in a half while we were busy. When we went back to see him he was chirping for us to follow him through the house, as if to show us all the places he'd been hanging out in the house. Brent stepped outside to clean the car and I followed Maris through the house. First he took me to the stairs. Then to a bedroom and a bathroom. He rubbed himself up against every corner: "And this is where I play. And this is where I lay." He took me down a long hallway. Into a closet. Out of the closet. Into another room. And eventually wound himself around the room to a window and perched himself in the sill, inviting me to come look outside with him. It was like a fun maze he took me through and he felt as if he brought me to the final destination. He was so still and he looked at me. I followed his frisky eyes to the outside and there, in such beautiful sunlight, was the woods that lined the side of their house. But it was so quiet and still and peaceful. Maris squinted his eyes at me as if to tell me to wait and be still. I hadn't been still in over 48 hours and I began to cry. It may sound silly but stillness can bring such clarity. I do believe that something captivated Maris enough to have the sense to bring me to a stop. I can't explain these moments.
Even though I work with no one most days, and I sit in my office and type blogs or read articles, I am not always very still. I am thinking and buzzing about in my head. I lose connection with what's really going on.
Was it my grandpa's soul in that kid's body when he said I love you? Was it my grandpa's soul in Maris when he brought me to look out the window? I don't know. If you believe in that sort of thing it could be true.
Whatever you or I believe, it doesn't matter. I just know that I live for those types of moments.
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