I love catching those moments when all traffic stops for geese crossing the road. It is as if we have finally sorted out our priorities; we should always yield to nature. If only urbanization worked that way. Maybe if a fox or a deer or a wolf emerged from the forest just before the bulldozer hit, they would stop too.
When May comes I am traveling to Costa Rica or possibly Ecuador to work in the rainforest. I do not feel like I am ready to embark on such a journey on my own, but I believe that is the strongest sign that I should go. That I need to go.
I have been told more than once that I am quite intimidating but I don’t understand why. Just now, I am sitting at an enormous table set for four, taking up a small section, but instead of a couple asking to share my space, they avoid my glances and cram into an already overcrowded corner with no room to even slip out of their jackets.
How do I become more approachable? I don’t even know if that is something I want but it seems people are so reluctant to disturb me from whatever I may be doing or thinking. Maybe that’s it! Maybe I look too whimsical, like I am always caught up in a daydream. Not present. That by speaking to me I’ll lose my footing from the top of some cliff face, whistling past them with snow still caught in my hair. The result could be perilous.
I guess that much is true.
Do you ever get a feeling that somebody knows you, but you cannot recall them? Not in a “I-forgot-your-face-and-your-name-type-way” but the “you-most-likely-have-been-passively-present-in-my-life-but-I-never-noticed-you-way.” I absolutely hate that.
There is a gentleman sitting behind me, who keeps eyeing me in a way that tells me he has seen me many times before and that I have seen him too, yet I do not recognize him in the slightest. I wonder how many people I have encountered but never really looked at. How does the Murakami quote go? Something about how lost opportunities and possibilities are part of what it means to be alive?
Yes, that is me.