Chasing Life (3)
Choosing Observation
I believe.
I believe things happen for reasons.
I believe that most of the time, I’ll never know the reasons.
I can accept that, but ambiguity will never stop me from questioning myself as to the whys and what ifs.
And now — a story.
Yesterday, I decided to embrace my writer persona, taking the show on the road. Quite possibly a change in scene will offer added inspiration. I’ll get more done without Mara staring at me and picking up her tennis ball every time I stand up. When I get home, I’ll consider my job complete for the day and actually pull out the vacuum.
I dressed — in a dress, for the occasion. I packed up the computer, put my shoulders on my back — allowing my heart to shine, and headed off to the local library. This was going to be good!
Our local library was renovated several years back. The space is bright, with a lot of windows. The aisles between book shelves are wide and the units are well organized. There is a Keurig, if you care to make yourself a cup of coffee or tea for the fee a dollar. It’s quiet, comfortable and welcoming. A place for everything and everything in it’s place — just the way I like it.
I found a spot at an empty, solid, dark-stained, oak table for four. I pulled out my computer, connected to Wi-Fi and set out to respond to a few emails before tackling a story.
I was only a sentence or two into the first response when I heard his voice. If you’re a regular reader, you know who I’m talking about from this story’s title. If you’re not, feel free to catch up in one, two — easy reads. Or, just read on. You’ll get the gist.
Looking up, I spied my new acquaintance. We’ve spoken twice before, when our walking paths crossed at the Vernon marsh.
Yesterday, he was amongst the periodicals, where the window showcases an outside, primary colored playset. There was a child on a swing; another on the slide just behind him, glass framing the scene. One of the librarians had approached him and asked if he needed any assistance.
I heard him reply that he did not. I stayed half-tuned into the interaction while trying to get back to the reason I was at the library — writing.
I overheard a few comments about John Grisham’s latest book and it’s predecessor. I could not help but notice my friend’s easy going, engaging manner. He offered the librarian his impish grin and she beamed right back at him. He’s charmed. What makes this man so captivating?
Conversation ended, the librarian went back to her duties and my friend(I really need to ask his name!), took a seat at one of the library computers behind me. A strong inner dialogue ensued. Approach and converse? Let it go? It’s inspiration — a story opportunity. You have other things you came here for. He’ll not recognize you showered and in a dress. Yes, he will.
Gone.
While I ran my script, he went up to the check out desk, took care of business and left.
I thought to myself — missed opportunity, no story.
Not true. This morning as I walked, my questions to myself unearthed the story and it’s lesson.
Why does this man keep appearing in your path? Don’t know. Does it matter?
Of course it matters! He’s meant to teach you something. He’s taught me a lot and I’ve spoken to him for less than a total of ten minutes.
What’s one thing you’ve learned? Yesterday I recognized he’s a kindred spirit, of sorts. I wonder if his actions and mannerisms are any reflection of my own. His openness and simplicity are appealing. He helped me to see myself. He makes me want to be a better person.
What if you had approached him? Maybe it would have been a great interaction. Maybe I’d have a bigger story to tell — or perhaps, I’d have missed the lesson I received. Does it matter?
There you have it. I believe everything happens for a reason.
Have I left you with a few questions of your own?
BTW — I only completed two email responses at the library before the A/C chased me and my sundress out the doors. Today, I’m at my kitchen table.
