December 24, 2009
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Requests
Requests
First of all I'm not here enough to have anyone send me a friend request.
Secondly, I'm not friendly (kind and pleasant) and because I'm not friendly I don't make a good friend.
I'm a little suspect of anyone who would want to have me as a friend. Most of the people who have ever known me in physical life have left mightily pissed off while pretending they weren't. The rest left without the pretense. I actually got an email from one of them today. Here's the dagger in the heart: Thanks for everything you taught me. *owie* Come off it. We don't like people who teach us until we grow up and we don't grow up until we learn. Then what? We leave the people who teach us because we already know everything we want to know? Nope. We learned so much from them that they don't have anything to teach us anymore. Yeah, right. The whole time they were teaching us they weren't learning anything themselves. They had stopped all forward progress so we'd have the chance to pass them by and be way smarter than them.I was in a store yesterday. Standing in line. Because that's what people do in stores this time of year. There was this little guy sitting in a shopping cart in front of me. He was with what was probably his mother. She wasn't there. He, on the other hand, was so completely present that it brought me crashing into the present moment with a rush of light, love and peace that took away my breath. Because I'm not a good friend I ignored everyone in the store who wasn't there and selfishly spent every moment with the little guy who was. He was love and peace incarnate. Why? Because we hadn't had a chance to ruin him completely by making him like us, teaching him our ways, as it were.
Apparently, it's such a busy time of year no one else even knew this little guy was there. Not even his mother. Oh, she knew she had a child, but she didn't know who he was. She thought he was her son. Hell, he could have been her guru. He was certainly mine for the moment. I could have bowed before him and kissed his lotus feet but he wouldn't have cared. He was teaching me by being not by doing. His eyes were luminous pools of dark brown light. He was so full of peace it radiated from him like a one hundred thousand watt radio station broadcasting a beacon of serenity. His mother, tuned in to some other station, picked him up and his little head dodged from one shoulder to the other to keep me entranced in his eyes. We think love looks like something we know so we miss it when it comes to us. It's hiding in plain sight and we're too enchanted by the glitter to notice. He was my friend and I was his.
Comments (20)
and that's why I dig you so much - my long time acquaintance
heh
I spent some time with someone else's kiddo the other day at the store while his parents were busy dealing with store stuff. He was in the present and we had a great, momentary friendship. It was very cool. Those are the moments that stick with me - purity and true, simple, undemanding love.
@oceanstarr -
Preach it, Sistah! It is the best of the best.
Well at least the infant knows how to send a friends request.... without really even requesting.
And yes James, you are friendly! In a grumple-y, straight shot, take it or leave it kinda way. 
@spinner_mom -
*smile*
@spinner_mom -
I like that about sending out a friend request. Really perfect.
That covers it for me! Happy Merry and all of that.
In the spirit of my moment, I don't get it. I'm glad you did.
Little ones are funny like that, aren't they?
I'm not so good with friends, myself. I sent out a ton of Christmas cards and my supervisor was shocked that I had so many friends (Ha. Me thinks they know me too well at work!)... until I read off where all the cards were going. Most going to states other than the one in which I live. Then she said... Ah... they're all going to other places, far away. That makes sense. If they were close, they'd probably not be your friends.
Well... probably not for long.
Merry Christmas, James.
@rideuponthewindagain -
I guess you had to be there.
@warweasel -
Well hell, if they can't love you for who you are they wouldn't make anything approaching a friend anyway.
::shrugs:: The friends I do have, typically, I've known for years & years. They're used to me.
love love it. Thanks for posting this. And James, I imagine you are a good friend. Whether you want to be or not. LOL.
@BeesKneesC -
Thank you, Ma'am. Imagination satisfies us in many ways but nothing lasting. More to the point who are your best friends? The ones who say they are or the ones you say are?
I don't see many kids in stores radiating anything except frustration or exhaustion this time of year. They are dragged out till they are cranky and tired and ticked off, and then the parents yell at them for it.
@moniet -
Parents tend to have poopy pants this time of year. They hide them in their heads.
the open love and innocense of a child that has no experience with ouch...very happy you got to escape the reality of it all and visit with him for a short time hugs...Sassy
A few years ago, my husband and youngest son, who was probably 8 years old, were shopping. My husband kept convincing me to try on clothes, way beyond my capacity to stay in a department store, but my son was completely entertained engaging others who were waiting as well. When we finally prepared to leave, a man waiting on his wife stopped us to tell us he had never had a grander time waiting by the fitting room, and wanted to know if we knew what a special son we have (we did and do). He thoroughly enjoyed talking to my son, about topics from sports to politics to the environment. My son is an interesting person because he is interested and loves to talk to people. Unlike my oldest, who would enthrall adults but completely monopolize the conversation, my youngest loves to know what other people think, too. I am amazed at both my youngest; even if we take them somewhere they really didn't want to go, they would end up enjoying themselves and immersing themselves in whatever we were doing. I thought I coined the term being "fully present" when I tried to describe this gift they seem to have....
I haven't been around Xanga much either. I miss it!
i've missed reading you. blessings abound
beautiful writing james
@loopdeloup -
Thanks, Lucy, it is. I just read it and thought the same thing. Then I thought a little more and realized it's not really the writing so much as the subject. It kind of writes itself. It's a story that tells itself and uses us, if we're willing to be used. Of course we're all willing to be used, but not often by something like the story that wants to tell itself. We're kind of like whores for the glitter . . . Oh well, time to shut up now. One last thing. I love you, Lucy, and I don't even know your story. Hey, maybe that's what love is . . .
perhaps its not the writing, or even the story - it's afterall, the writer, that glittery whore generous enough to share for the bargain price of the hugely devalued e-prop.
I love you too, you lovely man you 
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