Blog number 234 24 October 2008
Today I had one of those experiences that comes to one every once in a while. You know - the kind that warms the heart, the kind that is in a way, a "secret" because there is no way to transmit it to another human so that they will understand - the kind that belongs just to you and to no one else.
The lovely Teresa took me to the new Fry's Grocery and Vacuum Cleaners and Radios and DVDs and Tool Bins and Starbucks on Pinal Avenue. While Teresa shopped, I sat and drank a cup of four-shot espresso and read the most delicious novel translated from Japanese. At one point I raised my head and stared off into space, thinking about what I was reading.
A mother walked by, trailed by her slight four-or-five year old boy. It seemed the boy was looking at me, but I wasn't sure - my eyes aren't all that good, and the boy had pale eyes. I waved at him to check it out. He quickly turned his head away from me and caught up closer to his mother. So he WAS looking at me.
I followed him with my eyes and just before he went behind a display, he looked back at me and gave a big shy smile.
We connected and nobody else in the whole wide world, including his mother, was aware of this.
I don't think he would ever tell anyone about this, because to a little boy, it was nothing. So up until I started writing this entry to my Blog, only two people knew of this event and only one (me) thought anything about it.
That event is mine and nobody else can have it.
No use begging, either.
Nope.
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4 comments:
Very nice post about the sweet connection brought by a wave and smile. There should be more, much more, of that in this world of ours.
Thanks for the comment on my blog; I think your statement, "we are all allowed once cosmic experience" was great. It really caught my attention and got me thinking. Wow. I like that.
Thank YOU, Kate.
That was a very nice entry Don. I was touched by the genuineness of your writing.
You never did mention the name of the book though. I'd be curious to see what made you stop and think about what you had just read.
BTW, tell Teresa I said hello.
Paul
Hi Paul. Thank you for the kind words.
The book was given to me by a friend in Sacramento when we were visiting there a few weeks ago. He asked me if I liked Japanese writers and I told him I loved, "Remains Of The Day," so he gave me two books by Haruki Murakami. The one I am reading now is "Kafka Of The Shore."
There is a strange experience concerning a teacher and several students that happened during the Good War. They were out in the woods gathering mushrooms, saw a shiny object in the sky, and all the children fell down unconscious, one of them not coming out of the coma for several months.
There is a rather simple man that can talk to cats. He lives on a government subsidy and supplements his income by finding lost cats.
There is a runaway boy who spends his days in a library, reading rare books.
Each of these parts is fascinating in and of themselves, and somewhere they are all tied in together. Good, good reading.
What made me stop and think that time was a comment about without imagination, we have no responsibility. We can't imagine what will happen when we do something, for instance.
He was talking about the head of the SS that was responsible for getting rid of six million Jews. He couldn't imagine what all the fuss was about at Nuremberg because he was a technician and only solving a problem, which was his job after all. What's the big deal?
I will tell Teresa you said Hi, you betchum, Paul.
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