Tuesday, August 7, 2012

The Buddha in the Yellow Cab

There are some tiny, miniscule moments that are more than enlightening.  When a stranger manages to warm your soul you feel the world is right.  You forget about cruelty and wind and rain and feel only the sun.

Getting into a cab, which didn't completely pull over, making it unclear if the driver was actually picking me up, I noticed the driver was occupied on his phone and paused just long enough to allow me to offer my destination.  I pulled out my phone to amuse myself, assuming there was no polite chit-chat to be had, when the driver ended his call.  He was at least 65 but could have been closer to 95 and originally from Pakistan, which I found out later in our conversation.

"Fifth and Market, ma'am?"
Yes, thank you - Fifth and Market.

{Long Pause}

Has it been a busy morning?
"Oh yes, good this morning."

{Shorter Pause}

It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day - the sun is actually out this morning!
"Yes, beautiful today"

{The Pause that Turns into Silence - Yet Didn't}

"Ma'am, I must say, you are very beautiful woman - very beautiful."
Oh my gosh [uncomfortable laugh], thank you...?
"Yes, you are!  You are very beautiful, not just in your face but the way you stand also.  Your color, your nose, your lips, it is all...it all makes beautiful.  You have a soft face and with your color, very beautiful."

All this time I am awestruck, and slightly nervous - the driver is talking to me in the mirror, not really watching the road...

You're very kind, I say, as I try to laugh off his kindness, "I'll have to tip you very well - I'm happy to pay for compliments!"

"No, no!  I say because is true.  Look (as he pulls out a receipt to show me the tip on a $95 fare), I don't talk to this customer.  He tips me well anyway.  Some are beautiful, and we are saying "is beautiful", but not all are beautiful, and we are not saying..."

He then slowed down to point out a women, who I believe he was saying wasn't beautiful, but without saying so - it was more a comparison of two dissimilar objects.  He said, "See...that color...eh...and we are not saying is beautiful.  But you are!  Go home: in the mirror for 10 minutes...you will see each part: nose, cheeks, color, and then you will see all is beautiful.  You will see it - you will see it yourself."

I wish I remembered more of what he said because it almost made me cry and certainly makes the top ten list of kindest things anyone has ever said to me.  And perhaps I'm easily scammed - for a few dollars more in a tip?  Seemed like so much effort for so little - for him.  I like to think he saw something I don't, and he saw even more deeply to tell me to look in the mirror.

I've heard there's a little Buddha in every one of us, but today I saw him in someone very clearly - and very brightly.  From those kind words I burn a little brighter today, tonight still, and the world is right.




Monday, August 6, 2012

Mercury Dreams in Retrograde

Fine.  I give in.  I'm so West Coast I blame my crazier than usual dreams on Mercury being in retrograde.

Admittedly, I'm a woman of a certain age: old enough to know better (but young enough to not give a damn). The inevitable dreams of childbearing were bound to occur.  The first such dream just occurred about a week ago, and that's where the true mystery of birth begins...

There was no husband around, I was to be a single mom.  I crouched over, old-school, woman in a rice paddy style; I reached down and held in my arms a beautiful, healthy 8lb...cocktail shrimp.  Yes - I had birthed a giant appetizer.

Generally one would be alarmed by giving birth to something non-human, however, I chuckled and held it in my arms proudly - because it was my jumbo cocktail shrimp.  I loved it so much.

Next Scene: I'm casually explaining to my mother how being unwed with a child - a monster cocktail shrimp-child - is totally fine because, as I rationalized it, "I always wanted a cat".  As I'm telling my mother not to worry about me and the future of my healthy baby I look over at it (it wasn't sexed, nor did it have eyes) and see my tasty bundle of joy morph into the cat I always wanted.  Again, instead of shock I was amused and laughed happily at my good luck - as I'd been saying to my Mom, "I always wanted a cat."

Final scene: I'm talking to a friend about my baby cat who's playing just outside my line of vision, again, maintaining that it was totally fine, that I was happy with having a baby crustacean that by some unseen power, transformed into a feline - and as I'm genuinely saying how happy I am I look over and my little kitten had blossomed into a beautiful little girl, with hair like mine when I was her age.

I laughed again at my wondrous luck.  And was happy.

Later, of course, I woke up wondering what the fuck!?