That's what I heard the crazy man on the Anchorage city bus say into his cell phone. For thirty minutes, I listened to him ramble the most incoherent stream of nonsense I've ever heard in my life. It didn't take long to realize that there was no one listening on the other end of the line. He was dressed in hunting camo and was carrying a suspiciously shaped bag. I'm still confused as to how he worked in the words wizard, radiologist, and fallout-shelter in that giant run on sentence. We'll just say that I was eager to head the opposite direction when the bus dropped us off downtown. Manuel was off glacier-sighting with our friend for the day, and I had decided to strap on Ian and hit the streets. No particular agenda and just enough quarters to get me to 5th street.
As I turned back to make sure Camo Man was not in my shadow I noticed a blind man - complete with white cane - attempting to cross the busy intersection. Two thoughts simultaneously crossed my mind. One, he's going to get hit by that car that's barreling toward him. And two, no he's not. Of course he knows what he's doing.
I suddenly had this idea that my life was the script for a movie or I was experiencing some kind of Mary Tyler Moore moment there on that downtown sidewalk. Before I knew what had happened I was standing beside the blind man asking him if he needed help crossing the street. I believe I said, "You probably do this all the time, but can I help you cross the street?" He assured me that he was just waiting to hear that the coast was clear.
I imagined that I would skip into the street with him like Amelie and bring grateful tears to his white eyes from my compassionate gesture. Boy was I wrong. We walked about two blocks, and I just followed along like a little puppy. We exchanged small talk of the usual nature. From Arizona...going to Glacier Brewhouse for a bowl of soup...been in Anchorage for seven years. Yeah he was just fine without my kind gesture.
Fumbling here and there, I couldn't decide if I should help him maneuver around the busy Princess employees loading the tour bus or the pothole or the orange construction cones. The silly one was obviously me, and the few times I attempted to steer him it just made him jump when I touched his arm.
As we rounded the last corner, he swung his cane wide and nearly whacked a busy looking man in the shins. It was one of those moments, when you expect someone to really just stop for a second and address the situation. A knowing smile or even a laugh... But no. This man who was clearly in the most important cell phone conversation of his entire life didn't even miss a beat. He nimbly hopped over the offending cane and without so much as a blink kept on his busy way. I was impressed by his indifference. A few seconds later I was saying good bye to my walking companion.
And then I turned around and out of nowhere started to weep uncontrollably.
Gratitude, clarity, inspiration, and pure disbelief at how busy we have become... All of these things whirled through my mind. I put my hand on Ian's oblivious sleeping head, and I sobbed. On my worst day, someone else is experiencing suffering that I will never know. Perhaps it's cliche, but happiness in this life is purely subjective. We decide the extent to which our problems and woes own us. My blind man was content to feel his way down the street to get a delicious bowl of soup. He probably won't remember me, but I'll never forget him. Human interaction is all we have on this Earth. Are we so busy with working and shopping and talking and texting and Facebooking that we don't see and hear those around us? Can we stop and appreciate this very moment? Not yesterday or tomorrow but now? Is it possible to see past our own problems and feel genuine empathy for someone else?
The next time you have the slightest urge to help that old lady cross the street....just do it. You might find out that it's you needing the help all along...
I suddenly had this idea that my life was the script for a movie or I was experiencing some kind of Mary Tyler Moore moment there on that downtown sidewalk. Before I knew what had happened I was standing beside the blind man asking him if he needed help crossing the street. I believe I said, "You probably do this all the time, but can I help you cross the street?" He assured me that he was just waiting to hear that the coast was clear.
I imagined that I would skip into the street with him like Amelie and bring grateful tears to his white eyes from my compassionate gesture. Boy was I wrong. We walked about two blocks, and I just followed along like a little puppy. We exchanged small talk of the usual nature. From Arizona...going to Glacier Brewhouse for a bowl of soup...been in Anchorage for seven years. Yeah he was just fine without my kind gesture.
Fumbling here and there, I couldn't decide if I should help him maneuver around the busy Princess employees loading the tour bus or the pothole or the orange construction cones. The silly one was obviously me, and the few times I attempted to steer him it just made him jump when I touched his arm.
As we rounded the last corner, he swung his cane wide and nearly whacked a busy looking man in the shins. It was one of those moments, when you expect someone to really just stop for a second and address the situation. A knowing smile or even a laugh... But no. This man who was clearly in the most important cell phone conversation of his entire life didn't even miss a beat. He nimbly hopped over the offending cane and without so much as a blink kept on his busy way. I was impressed by his indifference. A few seconds later I was saying good bye to my walking companion.
And then I turned around and out of nowhere started to weep uncontrollably.
Gratitude, clarity, inspiration, and pure disbelief at how busy we have become... All of these things whirled through my mind. I put my hand on Ian's oblivious sleeping head, and I sobbed. On my worst day, someone else is experiencing suffering that I will never know. Perhaps it's cliche, but happiness in this life is purely subjective. We decide the extent to which our problems and woes own us. My blind man was content to feel his way down the street to get a delicious bowl of soup. He probably won't remember me, but I'll never forget him. Human interaction is all we have on this Earth. Are we so busy with working and shopping and talking and texting and Facebooking that we don't see and hear those around us? Can we stop and appreciate this very moment? Not yesterday or tomorrow but now? Is it possible to see past our own problems and feel genuine empathy for someone else?
The next time you have the slightest urge to help that old lady cross the street....just do it. You might find out that it's you needing the help all along...
It wasn't quite like this...
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