I was going to go with him.
Then I decided not to—he needed to turn right and I needed to take a left. We stood outside the yoga studio, all bundled up, and about to continue on with the day. He asked if I wanted to walk the extra block with him, and I was until I heard, "It's out of my way, and I'm running late for a work-date with myself. Plus, I'm trying to keep on time."
"I'm actually going to head this way," and I pointed left.
With a hug and a see-you-later, we each set off on our own paths. But just as soon as I made that choice, I realized just how beautiful the sky was outside. It was a crystal clear day after rain, snow, and gloom. "I’d love to experience that moment together."
And isn't that truly valuing my time? To share with another life's memorable moments? Simply enjoying the present?
Some people may call this mindfulness, I call this being alive. Living with a sense of real presence. I sense the loss around me in society, and I feel it deeply.
The snow on Cypress, Grouse, and Seymour mountains were stunning, their contours sharp and in relief from the dark trees and white snow. Vancouver's downtown was set gorgeously and snugly at their base.
I quickly ran back after him.
I couldn't find him. Had he actually left the building? Then I saw him. Two grey tall legs moving swiftly and punctually through time. With a little staccato flair.
“Jonathan!” I tried to shout without sounding as if I was in an emergency. It came out as a quiet whisper-yell, dissipating as my breath did in the cold air.
I tried again. This time a little louder.
While I waited to see if he turned around, I became delighted in watching him move. I knew him amongst the others in the crowd. I was familiar with his quick cadence and loved how he created beautiful phrasing through the people as his mind concentrated on getting on efficiently.
Calling after him seemed futile without causing a scene. So as I let go the desire to experience the crisp, morning scene together, another thought drifted my way:
What if God is like this? Chasing after him--chasing after me--chasing after all of us--trying to get my attention to simply enjoy the 'view' together?
I saw him walk down the stairs and underground to catch a train, and I walked home gazing out.
"This is just beautiful. You are beautiful, Creator."