Giving is Receiving
Just wanted to talk about something that just happened. I lost my wallet on my birthday (almost 2 weeks ago) and got a call that it had been found. I'd just gotten back into town and stopped to get gas before I went to pick up my wallet. On my way into the store I locked eyes with a handsome young guy sitting outside the convenient store with a dog and two huge travelling bags. Beautiful hazel eyes that could not be missed. After getting gas I thought about an orange I had leftover from lunch. I took it over to him just as his friend was returning and told him i wish I had more to give them and asked where they were from and what they were doing. They were hopping trains around the country. I chatted for a moment, wished them well and left to get my wallet. As I was waiting for the person with my wallet, watching rain drizzle down, I thought about times when I was stuck outside in the cold with no place to call home and no one who cared. I wondered when the last time those boys had a good meal was. So I drove back to the gas station and asked them. They stammered-they couldn't really remember. I packed the two boys and their dog and all their stuff into my tiny two door car and took them out to my favorite vietnamese restaurant. We ate outside and I asked them whats life like on the road. I asked them how old they were-younger than I. How long had they been on the road? One for three months, one for three years. Both of them were really... what's the word? Kind? Honest? Free? No one word. Both of them had beautiful eyes: light hazel and a clear blue that put to shame the most lovely of oceans. Even with tattoos his face was so nice... I wished so much to travel like that. Sitting out in front of my favorite restaurant downtown, my sporty car parked down the way, with two guys younger (and many times freer) than me who had naught but what they carried and I felt a tinge of jealousy. I had to ask, Do you travel to escape the commercialization of life? -Nah, just to go. Many people would be weary about allowing two strange guys into their vehicle, especially being a girl with no real defenses. I'm glad I'm not many people, only One.
On my way home, my favorite tree in the neighborhood, the one I pass by everyday, was full of white blooms. Completely covering every scraggly branch in beautiful pure white flowers. I never noticed it was blooming til then.
The more I allow things to happen, the more things do happen and the happier I allow myself to be. For all my complaints, I do love this life. For as angry as I get with people, the few good ones remind me how much I love people.