the fundamental interconnectedness of all things
Since school started, I have taken to riding the bus and walking around the neighborhood more than driving. The benefits have been amazing. For one, I like the idea of doing something for the environment, even something small. I also enjoy the time itself because it provokes meditative thought rather than the mindlessness of survival-response city driving, and finally, although I've not done any health checks to see if there's benefit there as well from the walking itself, I am noticing things like small improvements in breathing ability and heart rate, etcetera and so forth.
Anyway. That's not the point of today's post. The key word here is "neighborhood," as in the first sentence above -- neighborhood and community, and becoming more of a part of it by walking and being present in it, rather than just passing through in a sealed car.
Today I walked down to the local coffee shop, greeted the familiar people, and spent an hour-plus there studying, with coffee and in a comfortable corner by a potted tree. I found someone had put a tiny little ornament there in that tree, something you wouldn't notice unless you looked carefully-- a pleasant surprise for anyone who noticed, I think.
When I headed back, I took the route through the alley leading to my apartment complex, and on the way stopped to do something I'd been promising myself. You see, there's a particular garage on that route, and on nice days the door is usually open, because there's an elderly gentleman that sits in an easy chair in that garage. He watches and waves to cars and people as they pass, and I've been meaning to stop in and just say hello.
Today he was there, and so I did-- waving from the door first, and then walking in to share a few words of greeting and "isn't it a nice day" and suchlike. We both agreed it was, and he was pleased that I'd stopped to be neighborly, and then we got around to actually introducing ourselves-- at which point things took a really random turn.
Aspen: Oh, I'm [Aspen Real-Last-Name]-- I live just down the way (*points*) in the building on the corner there.
Elderly Gentleman: You're a [Real-Last-Name]? Why, I'm a [RLN]-- Charles [RLN]! Wonder if we're related. That side of the family's from [location in Kentucky and Virginia].
Aspen: *blinkstare* Um, we might actually be. That's my dad's side of the family, and most of it is down in [location here], but my grandfather came here from Kentucky....
So. At the end of the day it turns out his wife Nadine does a lot of geneaology work as a hobby, and I'll be checking with our own records of course -- but it's fairly likely I've found an aunt and uncle-several-times-removed, living three houses down from me.
It's a small, beautiful world sometimes.
Anyway. That's not the point of today's post. The key word here is "neighborhood," as in the first sentence above -- neighborhood and community, and becoming more of a part of it by walking and being present in it, rather than just passing through in a sealed car.
Today I walked down to the local coffee shop, greeted the familiar people, and spent an hour-plus there studying, with coffee and in a comfortable corner by a potted tree. I found someone had put a tiny little ornament there in that tree, something you wouldn't notice unless you looked carefully-- a pleasant surprise for anyone who noticed, I think.
When I headed back, I took the route through the alley leading to my apartment complex, and on the way stopped to do something I'd been promising myself. You see, there's a particular garage on that route, and on nice days the door is usually open, because there's an elderly gentleman that sits in an easy chair in that garage. He watches and waves to cars and people as they pass, and I've been meaning to stop in and just say hello.
Today he was there, and so I did-- waving from the door first, and then walking in to share a few words of greeting and "isn't it a nice day" and suchlike. We both agreed it was, and he was pleased that I'd stopped to be neighborly, and then we got around to actually introducing ourselves-- at which point things took a really random turn.
Aspen: Oh, I'm [Aspen Real-Last-Name]-- I live just down the way (*points*) in the building on the corner there.
Elderly Gentleman: You're a [Real-Last-Name]? Why, I'm a [RLN]-- Charles [RLN]! Wonder if we're related. That side of the family's from [location in Kentucky and Virginia].
Aspen: *blinkstare* Um, we might actually be. That's my dad's side of the family, and most of it is down in [location here], but my grandfather came here from Kentucky....
So. At the end of the day it turns out his wife Nadine does a lot of geneaology work as a hobby, and I'll be checking with our own records of course -- but it's fairly likely I've found an aunt and uncle-several-times-removed, living three houses down from me.
It's a small, beautiful world sometimes.