I just spent the last five hours in the presence of four lovely people – two women, one girl and one man. We sat in the kitchen for awhile, and later went downstairs, where one of the women was having her hair cut and styled by the other one.
I don’t want to name names. I don’t want to share the issues that folks brought up. I don’t want to quote anyone. What I’d love to do is touch upon the space of love that we all created. And, really, I don’t know what to say. (So just type, Bruce. See what emerges.)
Reverence. That’s what wound itself through all our words. Reverence for humanity, for our struggles, our pains, our beauty. Lots of stories told, none of which were intended to demean anyone. The stories lifted us up, shining a light on our tenderness. We shared grief. We shared sadness and the loss of relationships. We shared the serendipity of us coming together tonight.
The fellow and I had been out for lunch. When we got back to his house, I didn’t know whether he’d invite me in. He did. I had intended to have lunch with him yesterday, but complications led me to suggest today. The woman having her hair done intended to come yesterday. Somehow that got changed to today. As the client pulled into the driveway, she saw the back of my head as I sat in a window seat in the kitchen. It reminded her of me. It was me. I had never been in this house until today.
Some of our talk was serious. Some of it was silly. All of it was so very human. One of us was 66. Another was 15. And the other three filled in between. Age didn’t matter. Male-female was irrelevant. One person spoke rapidly. Another slowly and quietly. We laughed. We pondered. We came close to tears. We prayed.
Pretty astonishing, actually. No small talk. Lots of big talk. Human beings.