Shine Your Shoes

I spent a total of nine hours in traf­fic yes­ter­day. Alone.

I can­not tell you that I hated the expe­ri­ence. There is some­thing about dri­ving alone that is very nur­tur­ing, sit­ting very still and being car­ried for long peri­ods of time with­out hav­ing to look into another human face. But rather, like look­ing into your own eyes in the mir­ror, it is this neu­tral brain-space that allows a kind of brain detox. (And by detox I mean every part, includ­ing bad symptoms.)

Don’t get me wrong, that amount of time doing one thing seri­ously wear away at this pos­i­tiv­ity. By the last hour I thought I might be dri­ving for­ever and that I would no longer have a phys­i­cal body or a des­ti­na­tion. I felt like I would never be able to do any­thing ever again because my body may have for­got­ten how. I might have to jump start my sys­tem (fol­low­ing the detox com­par­i­son) and slowly intro­duce inter­ac­tions and just plan old actions back into my life. I could hardly keep up con­ver­sa­tions at work after the first four hour block, let alone after adding the one and a half hour lunch block. But get­ting home after the last stint was just too much.

The rea­son I am telling you this is because of what greeted my arrival.

But first, some con­text. My par­ents went away for the week­end on a mar­ried cou­ples retreat. I am watch­ing my younger brother who is ten. One of my Dad’s stu­dents, we’ll name them Josh, picked my brother up from school and hung out with him until I got there at 9:45 p.m.

So I pulled up, beat and zoned out, not look­ing for­ward to hav­ing to appear coher­ent and talk to a stranger. YOU GUYS! He was the kind­est, most gen­uine stu­dent I have ever met from the school where my Dad is teach­ing right now. I brewed us some tea and we had won­der­ful con­ver­sa­tion lit­tered with inter­ludes of laugh­ing at the movie my brother was watch­ing. Later I found out that he had made break­fast for din­ner (i.e. pan­cakes) for the two of them.

It was too much for me. It was all I could do to crawl under the cov­ers with a big fat smile on my face and sleep like a baby (please excuse the unabashed lit­er­ary ref­er­ence). These kind of crip­pling expe­ri­ences that keep me up at night all jit­tery and con­fused. Peo­ple like the young french guy who makes world class crois­sants and scones every morn­ing and whis­tles to him­self, or this guy. They may as well ask if they can bring me a tangerine.

How can you pre­pare your heart for some­thing like that? Peo­ple are just too beautiful.

3 Comments »

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  1. We need to con­quer traf­fic. Just the thought of it again kills me.

    Also, dude sounds so kind! Adorable! Thank God for his existence!

    Comment by Matthew — April 19, 2008 #

  2. you’re arrival!
    almost 1/4th of your day spent, amongst oth­ers, in and with the for­est. grow­ing.
    how can a home not be warm­ing post, with oth­ers of chal­lenge and purity?
    i won­der what thou is uptoist…

    Comment by Jordan — April 21, 2008 #

  3. We also need to con­quer the other kind of traffic.

    Comment by Matthew — April 21, 2008 #

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