Comfort in a zig zag world
June 23rd, 2009Roselle Kovitz, a contributing writer for the Campaign for Love & Forgiveness, shares an observation from one of her walks to the Ballard Locks in her Seattle neighborhood.
The other morning, while wandering through a nearby botanical garden, I passed a woman who regularly practices tai chi overlooking the Ballard Locks. Seeing her brings me a kind of comfort.
As I headed down the back side of the garden path, past the spent purple irises, I neared an older woman, her head swathed in white, wearing an oversized dirty windbreaker covering layers of clothes. She carried a white plastic bucket, bags and a reaching aid. I see her on the mornings I walk to the locks. She picks up trash and fetches recyclables from cans and dumpsters.
Following a haphazard trail of litter, she crossed into my path to pick up a piece of paper. She apologized for veering in front of me and explained, “It’s a zig zag world in my life.” We exchanged a few words about the weather and why she was wearing a jacket that day. Then, our paths diverged, like they usually do.
One day she stopped me and asked what size my waist was. The question itself startled me so that I answered. She said she had lost weight and thought she might be about my size now. She told me she walks about 17 miles a day. We often say hello to one another, but I don’t know her name or her situation, nor she mine.
There are so many people in our lives who we see, but don’t know. Sometimes just the sight of someone we regularly encounter is enough to reassure us of life’s rhythms and provide some comfort. Whether we delve into the universe of feelings, experiences, hopes and dreams of those whose paths we cross or whether we take comfort in a daily smile or hello, people—even on the periphery of our lives—are instrumental in shaping us and teaching us important lessons. And when they are gone we may feel disoriented, or mourn their loss.
So many of us are indeed strangers in a zig zag world—collecting layers of experiences, recycled ideas, and bits and pieces of wisdom along the way. To both of the women I see on my walks, thank you for modeling beauty and grace, persistence and patience. Thank you for being there.
