A reflection …and how to get rid of it
A few days ago, in the middle of the rush of business meeting at the office, I just run out without saying a word.
It was a simple matter of choice whether to preserve professional ethic or to preserve myself.
On one hand it is lets say a natural way — the self preservation and on the other that “move” was one of the first lessons my mentor gave me — move about.
I am not going to analyse that situation nor write about it. I need to get off my mind everything that happened afterwards as reaction to my action.
As I sometimes do, when I need a break, I made a retreat into backyard where kids and teenagers play (I can recall only two or three occasions in last decade noticing children play) like kids, you know. Surrounded by buildings, this backyard is somehow a oasis of peace, during daytime at least, since as night falls all sorts of juvenile delinquency happens here… oh, well.
Any how, there are some see-saws, couple of swings in usable condition, benches and an old fig tree that casts a nice shadow in summertime. And as you may guess all sorts of rubbish, leftovers, graffiti, numerous smoke buds, local stray cats… tossed away flower bouquets… if one gets surprised than it must be the first visit, but, it also can be a sort of urban oasis.
Ha! Like that old proverb: It all depends on a point of view.
As I was about to immerse myself into this “oasis” I briefly scanned the area; five teenage boys by the staircase, loud group of three around the swings waiting for full assembly, huge white dog and his owner, and young couple in far corner, sitting on pavement with their backs against old red brick wall discussing their relationship. In an instant I chose semi functional bench, not to attract much of attention but also not to be much distracted.
As I tried to calm down, reflect and meditate a sonorous voice pierced through my brain.
Another deep breath. I stretched my spine and slowly raised my face up to enjoy Sunshine.
But THAT voice. It was almost as that voice gained power. She was not talking loud. Quite the opposite. But her voice had such power and as I tried to neglect, sound seemed to be omnipresent.
“No! I know better than that. Let go and relax… breathe…”
All the sudden I become aware of that sound… of that voice… in my memory.
“Ha? How? What, who… wtf was going on?!?”
Suddenly all pieces were laid down into proper order. As I approached that bench of a choice and glimpsed those people in backyard, as I tried not to pay attention to what and to who any of them had to say or do… during my inner distress, my subconsciousness made the correlation; one particular thing emerged from that sfumato… pasticcio of images, memory of a face, memory of voice, memory of manner of speaking… “I know that person… but… from where? Who… was… she? …YES!”
And this new flood of thoughts washed off, like a sudden wave, all my previous mind bothering thoughts and distress. So I remembered.
Problem was that her voice sounded in such way as she was trying to put the feelings into words and words toward him but he did not get any of it. Everything was just bouncing off. It was useless.
Since than I am trying to get it out of my mind…
Hey! What if I write about that instance.? At first I was going to reach my notebook and pen, but then i thought of my latest “discovery” — lovely Medium as a way not only write but also to tell, to share…
… to let someone else have a use of this experience, hopefully.