Close Encounters

A few weeks ago I recorded a pleasant encounter I had at the grocery store. My hope is that this story will add some positive vibes to the world

     I’m always impressed how encounters with new people can be so meaningful, and almost magical.  I had one such encounter in the grocery store this week.  While I was checking out a young Asian man stood right behind me.  We both did a double take because it was only two days prior that we were in exactly the same place together.  I reminded him, “We met here two days ago and you were buying a bag of King Arthur Wheat Flour and you were going to make cookies for your girlfriend who was visiting.”  He said “Yes, and here’s my girlfriend Sarah right here.”  I said, “Hello Sarah!”   Sarah smiled and said hello back.  Then I asked the young man how the cookies turned out and he said “Great!” and that they would make them again. I saw he was buying Tofu so I asked  him with all seriousness if he was going to make Tofu Cookies.  He laughed as if one doesn’t make Tofu Cookies, and said they would make something, but I didn’t catch the name. “A Korean dish,” he said. We conversed a little more and I managed to get them to tell me they were students – he at UCONN and Sarah at U of San Diego.  I said “Oh my son lives in San Diego.” Yet another coincidence.  I asked what he studied, and he said, “Economics.”  Then I asked Sarah, and she said, “Economics.”  As I proceeded to leave he asked me what my name was and I told him, and I asked what his name was, and he said “Pin”, “Pin and Sarah” he said.  I said it was a pleasure to meet them.  We both agreed ours was a wonderfully joyful encounter and we hoped we would meet again.  I then left the store, with a memorable experience to take home.

It never ceases to amaze me when a magnetic charm takes hold in this world. Really, what were the chances that I would bump into the same stranger in the same place within two days of each other? And on top of it, have such a pleasant conversation. Since these two consecutive meetings, I haven’t run into Pin, or, at least I am not aware of our paths crossing. Though, it’s possible we have – and maybe we will. Until then, let the magic of the world unfold.

Words to Live By

Albuqurque, New Mexico at a Deli

Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.
– Aristotle

There must be those among whom we can sit down and weep and still be counted as warriors. – Adrienne Rich

A Day at the Beach

Tuesday, July 12, 2022

I love the beach
It’s a special place for me
I take naps
Listen to waves
And walk along the sandy edge of the ocean,
Watching children make castles in the sand.

Dreams of the inhabitants flood the beach
My dreams, their dreams, everyone’s dreams.
The salty water of the tide moves in and out
And sweeps up all these dreams
and moves them back out to the sea.
Back and forth, back and forth, 
dreams tumble like shells with the riptide.
Dreams that may never come true
Dreams unseen in real life
Except in the minds of those who dare to ponder 
that which is possible.

A small girl with blonde hair to her shoulders
Builds pyramids by the seashore with her dad.
Chichén Itzá comes to mind.
The re-creation of a place they never heard of before.
Maybe shown in a picture, at some time,
By some teacher, from who knows where. 
And it stuck in their mind.
As the tide moves in at about 4 o’clock,
Most pack their bags to go.
Begrudging the work that lies ahead
Their feet kick up their dreams in the sand.
The lifeguard stays on,
Talking away with an older female friend sitting down below. 
She keeps him company for the day.
He talks about the sea, the wild sea so ‘bravo’ from the full moon rising in the sky.
Gentle souls were he, and she.

And the small blond girl stood before her pyramids
Arms extended from East to West
Absorbing the current through her veins, eager to gulp her up like a whale.
But she stood strong, and firm, 
Impermeable and invincible against the steady gust of wind,
As she overlooked the sea with its fierce and raucous waves. 
When her father said “Aria, it’s time to go,”
A loud and thunderous “No” came from her tiny back turned body,
Resistant to a thief who would dare to steal her dream.
But she acquiesced leaving her castles behind, like the friendly couple
Sitting nearby, she too packed up her things to return to her camp at Burlingame Park.

A single colored, sleeping woman, with a indigo bandana, tied like a crown on her head, was awoken from her dream.  Startled to find her dry little island in the sand 
Surrounded by the water, the encroaching tide told her she must flee -
To save herself from getting totally drenched.  Her dream clung at the edge of consciousness
As she raised herself from the ground.
 
The small girl was still standing in the distance with her parents.
We caught her eye and waved, she waved back.
Then they were gone. Disappeared as if they had never been there before.
Their effervescent dreams dissipating like mist into the air.

The beach was empty.
Only the friendly lifeguard high in his chair was left chatting away,
With his older female companion sitting below.
Relating his stories of the sea.

We too thought it time to go,
Reluctantly, we gathered our things.
As we stepped away, I searched my pocket filled with two white rocks
To see if I had room to take everyone, and their dreams home with me.
But no, I too, like Aria had to leave my dreams in the sand.
At least for another day.


By Georgianna Rivard

Two Odd Americans

Dr. Gatewood of Chicago, and Mr. William Perry of Audubon, both died in June 1938. Dr. Gatewood was 51, Mr. Perry was 86; they had nothing to do with one another, but there was something odd about each of them.

Dr. Gatewood never had a Christian name. His parents were unable to agree on one they liked, and decided to wait and let him choose his own. And he never did.

William Perry said nothing for fifty years. He wasn’t dumb. But on his wedding-day, when his bride jilted him, he vowed at the altar not to speak a word till she came back; which she never did. And kept his word.

“The New Book of Days” June 6 by Eleanor Farjeon

This is part of the work…

We are designed to encounter this life with amazement and wonder, not resignation and endurance. This is at the very heart of our grief and sorrow. The dream of full-throated living, woven into our very being, has often been forgotten and neglected, replaced by a societal fiction of productivity and material gain. This is part of the work of honoring our grief …When we fully honor our many losses, our lives become more fully able to embody the wild joy that aches to leap from our hearts into the world. – Francis Weller

Friday, Feb. 11, 2022

In February, Spring was in the air.

Roaring water in the brook cascaded down around the rocks forming small waterfalls.

The reassuring sound of splashing and gurgling put my mind at ease.

I felt grateful for the trails with the beautiful surrounding nature.