Not that scary anymore

Walking down a busy 5 a clock rush hour street in a major city. People beside me, behind me, in front of me, walking with me, crossing me. From a bird’s eye perspective a grand, continuous millipede walking South, right into the mouth of the main train station.

But I’m not a bird. I’m an individual person, with my own loud thoughts, juggling ‘should have done’s, ‘could have done’s and the ‘have to do’s in one hand and the ‘want to do’s, ‘will get to do’s and the ‘could do’s in the other, mentally sorting the remainders of a busy work day into the appropriate overnight shelves so my mind may be free to deal with the ‘outside of work’ world. And when I catch people granting me strange looks, I have enough of a sense of humour to smile at my ability to talk to myself out loud while in public. ‘Fine, you caught me: I talk to myself’ , my eyes glow amused.

Glowing eyes look for other eyes to share the light. With that I shut all doors on work and turn my mind to the fellow humans who are going to where I am coming from. They come, beauties in all shapes and sizes, skin colours ranging from milk to Latte to straight coffee, clothes colours and patterns as varied as my brain can recognize, every choice speaking of individual taste. Under the clothes: personalities, lives that direct where they are heading at this very moment.

You are heading home to take care of your dependent father.
You are heading to the grocery store to pick up food for a dinner party.
You are to get a phone call from your mother in law, letting you know your wife is in labour at the hospital.
You are heading to the gym to receive an assessment confirming that you’ve lost 40 pounds and dropped 4 pant sizes.
You are heading to a first date with a girl your best friend set you up.
You are heading to a doctor’s appointment to check out the lump you discovered in your left breast yesterday.
You are heading to your new apartment that you just moved into after your wife left you for a business colleague.
You are heading to your second job to raise more money to sponsor your family’s life in Canada.
You are picking up your child from daycare and worry how he adjusted after your maternity leave just ended.
You are meeting your boyfriend who has told you on the weekend that he feels you guys need a break.
You are seeing your financial advisor to discuss what to do with the money you won in the lottery.
You are invited to a birthday party of a friend of your’s whose HIV test just came back positive.
You are going out to shop for the first bed that you and your fiancée are buying together.
You are about to t-boned in a car accident and won’t get to pass me tomorrow.

You all pass me too quickly for me to linger in the your possible emotions and thoughts. What remains is a sensation of being small and insignificant. Small and insignificant in a comforting, peaceful way, assuring me that life does and will go on, with or without me in it, that the thoughts and feelings and experiences that flow through me, flow through you as well, maybe in different moments, different quantities and different colours but they still flow. As lucky as I am to be conscious of my life and appreciate it, so are you, have you been, will you be.

A pregnant woman passes me.
Even if I don’t get to bear a child of my own, you will for me.

A guy in an Armani suit passes me.
Even if I don’t get to afford Armani suits, you will for me.

A teenager telling a friend about joining Doctors without boarders passes me.
Even if I don’t get to save lives, you will for me.

A young girl dances past me.
Even if I don’t make it to tomorrow, you will for me.

Before I know it, I’m mentally signing deals with the strangers that a moment ago I wouldn’t have realised existed.

And before I know it, dying doesn’t seem that scary anymore.
Nor does living.

~ by spasmicallyperfect on September 4, 2007.