I was about 14 or 15 when this happened. I was at a bus stop in Pomona on my way to my Dad's house I believe. It was a nice sunny day and I was only one of two people waiting at the stop. I had in my hand a book I had really been enjoying called "Notes to Myself", by Hugh Prather. It was a collection of anecdotes and insights and I remember that his follow-up book felt very trite and I had no care for it at all, while this book I enjoyed tremendously.
So there I was standing at the bus stop, book closed in my hand and this man in a turbon approached me suddenly and stood well within my comfort zone. He grabbed the book from my hand and looked at it briefly. I wasn't afraid or disturbed by his proximity. I was only slightly shocked by his boldness. He looked up from the book and handed it back to me as he looked me in the eyes and said "You do not need this book, you already know this". He smiled one of the most beautiful and soothing smiles I've ever felt and then he walked away, as quickly as he had come. It was so brief I doubt it was even 20 seconds we interacted, yet it felt so long and slow and comfortable. I still remember his eyes so dark and warm and loving. When he walked away across the park that sat behind the bus stop it was as if he was gliding or dancing across the grass. His movement was quick, yet marvelously fluid and beautiful and I watched him in complete awe until he was well out of sight.
I had never seen someone in a turbon before and I had never had someone interact with me in that way. So abrupt, yet so warm and welcoming, as if I had come into his world and not him into mine. It's such a beautiful and magical experience and I stood completely motionless and mute through the whole thing. I had almost no part in it really, which is the funniest thing of all. And this was the day I saw the man in the turbon dance on air.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Jesus drank a beer in my front yard
Okay.... it's may seem laughable, but this really did happen. I'm going to explain it exactly as it occurred and you can take from it whatever you want. Let me just preface it by saying that I don't actually believe it was Jesus himself, not so much because I think he is dead...because if he did exist and have the powers he did and return to life, then couldn't he in fact be alive still today and/or re-appear at will in whatever form he choses to. Maybe. I don't know.. just food for thought, but anyway.... Primarily I don't believe it was him because he looks just like the cliche pictures and statues of him. Wasn't Jesus of Middle-east decent? He just wouldn't look that way. I find so many aspects of religion so hard to swallow. Anyway... here goes.
I was home alone at our small house in Norwalk. It was summer and I had been home alone all day. My mother did not permit me to leave the house or have friends over, because of several instances where I had abused the privilege. So I was stuck with only the TV for company, a latchkey, only child of a single mother with no funds to put me in any kind of camps or full-time daycare. I was 9 years old, bored, lonely, hot and fairly sad. Even back then I could only watch TV for up to 5 hours or I would develop a massive headache. I've always had this condition.
This particular afternoon I heard the front gate open and I saw a man, maybe in his late 20's or early 30's come in. He was Anglo, with long scraggly brown hair and an unkept look. He looked a lot like my father's ironworker co-workers or a construction worker, with jeans and a scruffy t-shirt on. He didn't look homeless per se, and I was very familiar with what homeless people tended to look like at the time.
The man casually strolled in and sat himself under the shady avocado tree in the front yard and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He had with him a beer, which he proceeded to drink very slowly. I watched him through the curtain. I wasn't afraid, but I found it so odd how he just sat there with no care or concern. Nothing like this had ever happened before. It was funny that he seemed completely unaware that I was in the house watching him. I called my mother at work and she advised me to not worry and call her back when he left. I'm sure she didn't want to call the police because even though at the time it was not against the law for me to be home alone, in that neighborhood, it probably would have still looked pretty bad.
He sat there for what seemed like hours, enjoying the hot summer with a cold beer under the cool shade of the tree. He seemed so completely at peace and happy. As I sat on the couch and watched him it completely changed my perspective. Here he was, enjoying doing nothing at all. Completely pleased with absolutely nothing, in a place that was not his, un-invited and alone. He had this look on his face of such peace and comfort. I had never seen anyone like him before; not his "look", but his demeanor, his presence. It was so different and beautiful.
I never saw him again, but the vision of him...the memory of him I carry in my heart forever.
I was home alone at our small house in Norwalk. It was summer and I had been home alone all day. My mother did not permit me to leave the house or have friends over, because of several instances where I had abused the privilege. So I was stuck with only the TV for company, a latchkey, only child of a single mother with no funds to put me in any kind of camps or full-time daycare. I was 9 years old, bored, lonely, hot and fairly sad. Even back then I could only watch TV for up to 5 hours or I would develop a massive headache. I've always had this condition.
This particular afternoon I heard the front gate open and I saw a man, maybe in his late 20's or early 30's come in. He was Anglo, with long scraggly brown hair and an unkept look. He looked a lot like my father's ironworker co-workers or a construction worker, with jeans and a scruffy t-shirt on. He didn't look homeless per se, and I was very familiar with what homeless people tended to look like at the time.
The man casually strolled in and sat himself under the shady avocado tree in the front yard and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He had with him a beer, which he proceeded to drink very slowly. I watched him through the curtain. I wasn't afraid, but I found it so odd how he just sat there with no care or concern. Nothing like this had ever happened before. It was funny that he seemed completely unaware that I was in the house watching him. I called my mother at work and she advised me to not worry and call her back when he left. I'm sure she didn't want to call the police because even though at the time it was not against the law for me to be home alone, in that neighborhood, it probably would have still looked pretty bad.
He sat there for what seemed like hours, enjoying the hot summer with a cold beer under the cool shade of the tree. He seemed so completely at peace and happy. As I sat on the couch and watched him it completely changed my perspective. Here he was, enjoying doing nothing at all. Completely pleased with absolutely nothing, in a place that was not his, un-invited and alone. He had this look on his face of such peace and comfort. I had never seen anyone like him before; not his "look", but his demeanor, his presence. It was so different and beautiful.
I never saw him again, but the vision of him...the memory of him I carry in my heart forever.
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