paying it forward: love in a lunchbox

so the other day i was sitting in a starbucks parking lot, facing the road, looking in the mirror and putting on lipgloss before driving away.

i noticed a woman standing in the median in front of me.  she wore a heavy coat several sizes too large for her body.  a hat.  thick pants, and brown work boots.  she kept a backpack at her feet and she carried a small cardboard sign that was ragged and creased, and looked like it had seen many days out in the cold weather we were having. 

i found myself watching her for some time, and i ended up not driving away.  i watched to see her heart in her eyes ... and any expressions on her face, and those of the passersby … a constant flow of drivers pulling up to the traffic light, pausing and texting, and often not even acknowledging that she was there at all.

i then noticed through the corner of my eye, a man approaching from the right.  he too wore a heavy coat and hat, and walked with a slight lean forward to brace the cold wind, with his head facing downwards as if he were looking at each step he took.

"Judgements prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances."  -Wayne Dyer

he approached this woman, unzipped his coat, and pulled out a lunchbox.  it looked full.  he handed it to her, and as she took it, he touched her hand with both of his.  they exchanged words which of course i could not hear.  they did not hug, but she extended an arm across his back and he did the same in return.  kind of a half-sideways-not-really-hug but more than a handshake.

i tried to quickly capture this moment in a photograph but from beginning to end it was faster than the time it took me to get my camera and turn it on without taking my eyes off of them just so i wouldn't miss a single second.  

the man nodded to her with a smile and returned back towards from where he had come.  i watched him.  i watched her.  i wondered if he worked in the building directly across from where i was sitting, and had seen her through the window.  i wondered if the food was his own or someone else's or a collection of items from different people from wherever he came.  or an old lunchbox found in the bottom of his car with who knows what inside … i have found a lunchbox or two in my car that my kids have abandoned and forgotten.  not a pleasant discovery i must say!

i watched her some more.  she knelt down and seemed to say a few words out loud.  then she held the cardboard sign in her mouth and she opened her backpack and put the lunchbox inside.  as she did this, she took an item out of it, then zipped the backpack closed.  she held the item in one hand and then held the cardboard sign in the other, stood back up, and faced the traffic once more.  i noticed her posture ...  she looked tired yet strong.  her face, expressionless.

i kept an eye on the man to see where he was going.  i wanted to thank him by going somewhere to get him a gift card or something but i was afraid i would lose track of him.  he did not go into the office building across the street.  he walked over to a car wash and i noticed a car parked there with the door open.  

it was his, and he began to vacuum his floor mats as if he had not just done this extraordinary act.  had i not been in that spot at that moment, or not paying attention, i would have missed that moment.  it was over.  from that point on, no one approaching that intersection would know it even happened.  

i drove over and spoke with him, asking his name, and letting him know that i saw his grace extended to the woman with the sign.  he was younger than i would have guessed, he looked and sounded to be in his very early 20s at most.  he seemed very shy and alarmed, almost embarrassed, as he quietly told me his name was anthony.

i asked him about the lunchbox and he said it was his, but that he was on his way to work and figured she could use it more than he could.  that he could more easily get another lunch.

"It's not how much we give but how much love we put into giving."  -Mother Teresa

i had no gift to thank him with so i hugged him and thanked him for being a beautiful example of the human spirit, for being a giver, for helping a stranger, and for making my day.

this was such an amazing moment to me, and i found myself smiling in awe of these two strangers who did not know i was witnessing their interaction.  

i hope my children grow up to be boys who would do the same kind of thing.  i hope they will think of others and their situations and give to people regardless of what the receivers might do with what they receive.  many people reject the idea of helping those who stand with cardboard signs … many people have concrete beliefs about why they are there or what they could or should be doing instead of standing there.  but who are we to say?  it is not our place to judge.  we have no idea what their story is or how their journey has landed them in that place at that time.  very typically, people at the age of 20ish do not identify with this circumstance.  at that age of our life we do not typically consider how or why that person got there.  or that any of us could end up there at any time for any reason.  or that not everyone has the same circumstances or opportunities or blessings.  i was touched to be an unknown observer of this exchange, and even more grateful to see that it was our youth reaching out with such generosity and goodness.   

he could have been my son.  your grandson.  your brother.  your boyfriend.  your daughter's future husband.

and the woman could have been any one of us.  or our mother.  aunt.  sister.  neighbor.  

a person in need isn't just a needy person.  that person is a human being just like you and i are.  a spirit, a soul, an energy.  

sometimes a lunch isn't just a lunch.  

sometimes 

it is a grace of God. of this beautiful universe.  of you.  of me.  of our collective energies.

of Love.

♥

becoming real ...

i was thinking this past week, about spirit.

and how faith in a person, loving a person, can bring about their real self.

i was also thinking about the difference between knowing you are loved, and feeling you are loved.

it is possible to know, without a doubt, that someone loves you.  yet it is a completely different thing to feel that someone loves you.  and knowing someone loves you does not guarantee that you will feel loved by that person.

but the feeling of being loved completely ... allows us to be who we are, completely.  our real selves.  we know we are safe, our heart is safe, our real self is safe ...

this nurtures our spirit and keeps it alive ... 

like during the holidays, you see something similar in many of the christmas movies ... when the children (and in some movies the adults too) believe in santa claus, their belief in him makes his sleigh fly;  believing in santa makes him exist ... makes him real.

when we as parents believe in our children to make good choices, to "be good" and to do what's right, they generally rise to meet that standard.  our belief in them, in that way, makes those ways real.

when teachers believe in their students, and treat them as if they are already successful, they succeed in larger numbers and with greater accomplishment.

it is not just the christmas spirit ... it is the human spirit.

when someone believes in us and loves us, completely ... wholly, and without fail

not because of what we can do for them ...  not because of us "doing" anything at all ... but just because we are who we are ...

when someone believes in us,

like the little boy believed in the velveteen rabbit,

we become real.

we become who we really are.

who we've been all along,

since we were very young,

and uninhibited.

who we are capable of becoming

without fear 

or doubt.

i am fortunate to know with certainty that i have been loved in this way.

it gives me great peace to know

that i in turn

love

in this way...

there is a true calmness that settles over our heart when we realize and recognize this.

a lightness, a settledness (if that's a word) inside our chest, that provides a clearer and brighter path for us to walk.

(i used to describe this as a rushing inside my chest that one day i realized had stopped ...)

when we are not hindered by anything outside of ourselves, when we are moved and encouraged by love and faith (faith of any kind, in any thing or in anyone) ... we are free to live from our heart, we step more surely and believe in those steps ... as we become real.

and as the skin horse assured the velveteen rabbit ...

once we become real,

we can't become unreal again ...  ♥

there is only one you ...

to be continued ...

so today while i was driving, i was thinking, and having conversations in my head, you know, much like the way our thought process goes when we're in the shower.  that's not just me, right?

so i was driving after having spent some time with a friend.  not just any friend, but a friend of my heart.  a connection i cannot imagine not having. 

i was wondering why this is.  and i was thinking about whether or not it really is what it seems to be.  like, how is this such an important thing, how is it that this person's presence actually affects me in this unique way?  there was, after all, a time when this connection did not yet exist.

how is it that being around this person feels like a celebration … of who we are ... of who each of us is.  a treasured collection of moments of being who we are, and excelling at it.  and it feels like we are never finished being together, we are always "to be continued …"

i was wondering, is it me?  am i assigning more value to this because of my  extremely tender heart?  am i making this mean more than it is, in my mind?  you know how we all know we have had moments where we question ourselves because we can all overthink things sometimes.  especially when we're driving.  alone.  that's not just me, right?

and so i tried to compare this friendship to others … and i couldn't.  

i tried to explain it to myself … and i couldn't.  

i tried to define it … and i couldn't.

but what i did succeed in doing, was realizing this ultimate truth:  the quality of my life is better with this person in it.

it's really that simple.  it's really that true.  and that was all i needed to know in the end.  

i smiled the rest of the way home ...

honoring our connections

♥

sometimes there are people who come into our life and we don't know how it was that we ever did not know them.

sometimes there are people who we connect with, even before we really speak.

sometimes there are people who we cannot disconnect from, even after we part.

there are those who touch our heart,

challenge our mind,

feed our soul.

i believe it is important to honor our connections.  no matter how big or small they might seem today.  no matter how much bigger or smaller they might become on any other day.

i believe it is important to see inside them and really treasure who lives in there. 

the gift of their presence might seem effortless,

but it is their greatest truth,

their spirit,

their journey,

and deserves to be handled with care.

so be thankful.

be thankful.

and be

thankful.

THE ROCK

this is the story of how this blog was born.  

someone who i am very close to, and who i feel connected to, recently traveled to another continent. while gone, i asked him to bring me back a piece of that place. not a souvenir, not something made someplace else and imported in for sales to tourists ... but something like a rock. or a spoonful of dirt ... a piece of bark. something native to the land, something "of" this place that he loves to go to, this place that co-mingled with his energy while he was there, where he breathed the air, listened to the sounds, felt the rain and the sun and the breeze, where his feet walked its earth, where he ate the food, where he loved the people ...

i think it might have been against his typical souvenir buying, but he did it.  when he picked it up it was half immersed in water in a lake or pond or something (i can't remember,) and he immediately sent me a message saying he had found the perfect stone to bring to me.  when i finally held it, i treasured it immediately and planned to put it on my nightstand. partly because i am overly symbolic and sentimental. partly for a reminder that no matter what different lands we walk on, we are all connected. we remain connected through distance and time.

that was already treasure enough for me.
then the words came, and this is how.

this person is a very faith based person and he played a song for me which he said was his current favorite. he seemed to have a little trepidation, mentioning that it was a christian song ... i could tell that he wanted me to hear it and know the words, but he didn't want the religious aspect to affect my perception. it wouldn't have of course ... but he didn't know that.  i could also tell that he was really trying to share something that meant a lot to him ... he played the video and asked me to read the lyrics as it played. when it got to the chorus i felt tears in my throat before they even made it out of my eyes.  i can't even say how or why. i heard and saw the words "my heart looks like your heart" and i looked at him and tears were sliding down his cheeks. he turned away and shortly after that, he turned the song off. it was so much ... and i could feel the immense scope of it in the very small space between us. he said that part gets to him in a way that he can't even take it. we both cried and i hugged him. he held me so tight. he said, "not only is that how i feel about reaching my authentic self, that's how i feel when i want you to know that my heart is true towards you, just as yours is true towards me. i need you to know that." 

i cried. again. later that night as i took the rock out of my purse to put on my nightstand, i held it, and that chorus played instantly in my head. i thought of where the rock came from. how it traveled to me.  how we are all connected. how connections exist and remain over time/space/distance. how it was half immersed in the water of that particular land. how the rock, the water, the land all encircled each other and lived peacefully as they should, totally encompassing each other ... like people immersed in others, and how i treasure that immersion like fuel to my fire.

how my heart looks like your heart. 

my cheeks were hot from tears just covering my face.  something as simple as a rock. unnoticed by most. something as simple as a song. one which wouldn't typically resonate with me.  something as simple as a moment shared between the hearts of two people.

this rock, and these words, brought together, have made such an impact on my heart. now i do keep it on my nightstand but i also bring it in my car, and i sometimes put it in my purse or even in my pocket ... i want to keep it with me everywhere i go; i like to look at it, hold it, think about it ... it has become more powerful to me than i ever would have imagined. what it represents to me is so much bigger than its physical dimensions or properties.  holding it is like connecting to this person.  to mother earth. to the planet. to the universe. to the human race. to love and light. 

all of these things pertain to people. i don't know if i have done justice to it, in explaining how symbolic this is, and for all the reasons why and how.  but all of our hearts do look the same. that in itself is its very own reason. it is the perfect antidote to hate and prejudice. a perfect reminder of our connections to each other, regardless of age, time, space, land, culture, religion, etc. 

there is so much symbolism for me in this simple rock ... the significance of this little piece of the planet ... once so far away, unbeknownst to me, and now right here in my hand, forever in my heart, and timelessly in my soul.