Sometimes, it’s just a touch.
I usually visit my favorite Starbucks two or three times a week. Rising between 5:00 and 5:30 AM, I put on my sweats, grab the paper and off I go. I sit there for thirty to sixty minutes, reading my paper and drinking the rich coffee, looking up frequently to observe life walking by.
The single moms pursuing a cup of coffee and a few minutes with their child, over a muffin, before taking them to school; business people, construction men, the local cop, city crews, the surfers, the lifeguards, the students and their laptops, each with their own thoughts, their own life, and each … a component of my life. It’s like watching reality TV, only better.
There are a few other “regulars” like me, mostly men, who have developed a friendship only because we stay there to enjoy our coffee and the morning paper.
Seeing each other with some regularity, we talk about all manner of subjects, including the women who come through. There exists a kind of “code” to alert each other when an attractive woman comes in unseen by the others. “Steve, can I get you a refill?” means, "look at me and see where my eyes are looking and then look there!"
I know, I know … I can just hear you women, “Heh, men!” Well, if you think it’s easy managing all this testosterone, then you come back as a man next time!
Soon, I became aware of a woman who occasionally chose to sit awhile to enjoy her coffee. She was usually dressed in hospital scrubs. I learned from one of the other regulars, she was a surgeon. She always smiled and was very vivacious and talkative. Over the weeks, I saw her several times and soon we would greet each other with a nod of the head and a “good morning.”
We never spoke in depth until one day a couple of weeks ago, when she happened to take the other plush chair next to me. She smiled my way as was customary but seemed … pensive. “Good morning, how are you this morning,” I said. She looked at me, her face darkened, and she started to say something but stopped, started again and again stopped. I could sense something was up for her as I folded my paper, leaned towards her and touching her arm I said, “You look sad, is there a problem?”
She looked down at my hand on her arm as though it was a signal to her. Tears welled up as she said, “Today is the first anniversary of my brother’s suicide … we thought he was fine … I got there too late … I thought I could save him … the blood was everywhere … my mother was screaming … I was just a few minutes too late … just two minutes earlier … that’s all I needed … I was just two minutes too late!” as her stoicism dissolved and the tears ran down her cheeks.
Her agony was subdued, as one would think for a doctor, but it was real. This woman who chose the healing arts, who gave care to strangers, who was familiar with death in a way that non-care givers are not, was releasing her agony at the gentle touch of a stranger.
We talked for almost an hour, “I haven’t really talked about it since it happened. Thank you for listening.”
We said our goodbyes and as I was walking towards my car, I recalled my time as a volunteer at the local Children’s Hospital where, during my training, they taught us about the healing power of touch.
I remembered picking up my first baby as a volunteer and on the monitor hooked up to her; I actually saw the respiratory and heart rate decline as I held her. As I talked with her, her breathing smoothed out and she stopped crying, all from a touch, a voice.
From that experience and this morning’s, I knew it was true; Professional caregiver, doctor, or baby … sometimes, it’s just a touch that matters.
And in all my self-congratulatory, ego laden accolades to myself about my sensitivity and caring and “giving back,” I walked by, judged and rebuffed the homeless man who asked me for money!
And I didn’t even realize it …
until the next day!
Sure, sure, I had all the knee-jerk, “keep me innocent,” statements I told myself at the moment he asked me.
“He should get a job,”
“Don’t give him money, he’ll just spend it on alcohol or drugs,”
“There are plenty of agencies downtown where he could get help if he really wanted it.”
The nerve of me, judging another man’s pain and, worse yet, minimizing it.
<div style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt”>How do I know what knocked him off track? It could be me there, asking for help. How would I feel if appeal after appeal was met by the cold indifferent look I gave him?
Sure, I paid $2.00 for a cup of coffee with twenty-two cents worth of beans in it, but I couldn’t give $2.00 to a man in need?
Yes, I look for him when I go but I never saw him again.
I’m not sure it’s as important I find him, as it is I open my heart.
Please God … when will I escape my ego?
(I posted a version of this entry earlier in my diary but it was lost to the "Great Hack Attack of 2004.")
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Hmmm…sounds oddly very much like your entry about the woman in the corner in the Starbucks sitting in your chair. Me thinks you like to write.
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RYN: Yes, I like to write BUT … I’d like to lose my ego MORE!
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Our ego is always lurking. Accept it, man, we are beautiful in our imperfections if only because they help us realize how innately flawed we are. Not sure that made sense, but there it is. Take care,
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Oh, yeah, and touch IS good! Purposely make the effort to touch those around you. Who knows, at the very least you might make their day, at the most, you might save a life. I hope your new friend finds a way to get past her guilt about her brother. Sigh. Anyway. Take care,
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I like this entry.
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This was a beautiful and touching entry. Thank you for sharing.
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What your first noter said, I agree with. Intense things happen for you at that Starbucks. I want to show you a website: http://www.huggerbusker.com
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Btw, I am loving that picture.
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BTW, I am loving that profile pic. Total fantasy of mine.
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RYN: NUT HUGGER!
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Sorry, I can’t read this now. I am too intrigued by your new icon.
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i do love to people watch. i think all of us in the OD community do… that’s why we’re here 🙂
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RYN: All I heard was a ton of heavy breathing! Please…breathe more…harder…faster!
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Best of luck losing the ego. As negative as it is, it does serve a purpose at times. Usually it falls in place of simple self respect though. ~soft smiles~ There are many times when i wish I could just sit with you and talk, listen, share, conjecture. I feel like your mind would be a wonderful place to get lost in for a while.
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there is incredible power in touch, I believe in healing hands and the ability to transfer energy between people. There is also power in listening and looking enough to notice and you did all that too. You are hard on yourself for not getting it perfect. Being an idealist myself I relate but dislike looking at another aiming so high because the mirror is not kind. In aiming so high though, wedo better all the time and so it will be for you. Perfection may be a myth but we can achieve very wonderful things by aiming for it anyway.
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We all have an ego…but how we recognise it and then deal with what we find is another thing…i think you will be fine **HUGS** Love, ME xxx
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Yes, this did have a familiar ring to it…but a well told story.
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Intense entry! I think we are all guilty of passing the homeless and thinking the same thing. I know, I have. Remember we are all human and we aren’t perfect.
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ryn: I love zinfandel how did you know? hehe
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shhhh! i’m not s’poseta be on OD, but i wanted to check in on my favorite faves. :0) this was a fantastic entry. i liked this a lot. wow! you’re not just all testosterone; you’ve got a heart, too. awwww! *warm smile* (g)
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i dont know darlin i think you have a lot less ego then you may think and certainly a lot less then the rest of us. atleast you TRY to be human
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ryn: LOL!!! your testes, uh, i mean, your testosterone!!! :0) (g)
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touch is compelling on so mamy levels
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~sigh~ If only we could ALL lose our ego…..imagine how much better life would be!
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ya know what really got me not all so long ago? my little ones and i were at a water fountain at a nearby restaurant. so was a homeless guy with all his belongings in a shopping cart. imagine the range of emotions that welled up inside me when he dug into his pockets and offered the children coins to throw into the fountain… nice you were there to reach out and touch someone in her need 🙂
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I remember this 🙂 ryn … of course 😉
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of course… it is an entirely different story to your previous story about the coffee shop. and it was a very good point you’ve put across.
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Ego is an evil burr, for sure. Thanks for reminding each of us. I needed this lesson today. –R
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The power of touch IS amazing. I had an experience as a birth doula once that truly proved that to me. When we got to the room, the woman was not progressing and the nurses were rather rudely proclaiming that she “would have a c-section, no doubt”. The woman was all alone and scared out of her mind. I sat down next to her and took her hand. Really, thats all I did. And less than an hour later
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she had progressed the 4 cm that she needed and was ready to push. She delivered a baby boy not too long after that. I was just amazed. All that this woman needed was someone to sit with her…and a little touch. Much Love, Katie
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I don’t think its so much of letting go of the ego, but recognizing it can either hinder you or promote you in life. Knowing the right balance between pride/ego and openness, thats the key.
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thanks, i needed to read this.
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We age, we grow, we learn, we mature, we change. If we are lucky, and blessed. I too thought this entry was going to be about the woman who took ‘your’ chair at Starbucks. So what is your favorite Starbucks drink? Mine is White Chocolate Mocha. Yummy. ryn: thank you for the kind comment.
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RYN Does it work if the woman isn’t getting laid, but is just wanking three times a day?
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Go ahead. Talk dirty. Let’s see what ya got!
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As for Starbucks sizing…did you realize they offer a size smaller than their ‘tall’. It is just called a small, but they don’t advertise it. I read that in a magazine. The article was about Americans gaining weight and it pointed out ways to cut back and listed some that wasn’t well known, like Starbucks having a small size they never even advertise. Shame on them. I was disappointed that theywould make us think their ‘tall’ was the smallest they offered. I almost talked myself into not going there anymore but then I thought of that Grande White Chocolate Mocha….and well my taste buds won over my integrity. Such as life. ry compliment: thank you.
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RYN: Such an elequent response to my latest entry. ~smirk~ Such a way with words.
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RYN: *blushing* erm….um…. Nope. Lay it on me in private. Whatcha got, bad boy?
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Back at you!
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Why is Rehena talking about talking dirty? And why am I not involved? LOL
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ryn on Red’s diary….. Oh, you’re a quick study, aren’t you Nunz? But, you don’t need any coaching. None at all.
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I changed my “smokin” picture. 🙂
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NOW HOW THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP FROM GRINNING WHEN I DO MY AB WORK TODAY WITH HIM HOVERING CLOSE BY???
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RYN: which is probably what her horny husband is thinking: “Hmm… Why are they in the bathroom so long! Maybe they’re kissing!!! Woopee! Because just maybe I’ll get to watch the delicious Red and my wife kiss someday soon!” Count on men for one thing: consistency. Love ya! -Ruby
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Watch it, Nunz. I could take YOU down too. Smooch!
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RYN: downtown??????
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B*stard!!! How do you DOOO that???? F*ck! “Teach me, Nunzio,” she said, her full pink mouth parted and her huge green eyes burning into his.
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ZOINKS! Sumthin like that. wink
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I truly love the photography you add to your writings. It gives them so much life.
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RYN: Thanks,Nunzio. I hope that when the planets align as they should, you and I can snicker together online…at some point. I don’t always have yahoo on. But I hope once when I do, that I’ll be presentable, and can visit. And thanks for your support. It actually truly does make an impact.
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come visit me, i’ll destroy your ego within 5 minutes !! 😉 i once tried to give a woman $5, in the bathroom at the mall. turned out she wasn’t homeless at all, just had poor hygiene. embarassing, but it only ended my frivolous habit for a short time. i’m lucky there aren’t too many homeless here, not asking for money anyway, or else i’d be broke. :O
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RYN: Wow. That could get me in trouble!
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ryn: LOL!!!!! i’ll take the starbucks card since i’m so fond of, uh, being in starbucks. :0P (g)
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Enjoyed your entry…look forward to reading the others when I have time…Arabella
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I’ve seen a distant picture of you. You’re no old man!
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That’s odd you say you don’t know WantingMore, because, when he was first knocking at my diary door to become a fav, he said you could vouch for him.
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I did note you about that! I said that I’ve seen a distant picture of you, and you’re far from OLD and decrepid! As for WantingMore, I didn’t ask you for a reference on him, because (at that time), I was still with Tony, and Tony told me to stay away from him. Then we broke up, so I let WantingMore into my diary (more or less as an f-u Tony thing). He’s sweet, but he only wantsto “that kind” of talk from me.
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RYN: I SAID… YOU’D STILL DO ME, PINK SWEATSHIRT AND ALL!!! SO THERE!!!
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I know, I know. So what’s my ish anyway? Take care.
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I LOVE meatloaf. Absolutely love it. Your recipe sounds great — no calories, right???? Are you a with or without ketchup?
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ryn: the upper level isn’t noisy at all. good research! but that’s not my ferry. there are about six of ’em that service the bay area. :0) (g)
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RE: My Hot or Not page…. Eh….you all have seen all my pics before. Nothing new to see there.
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ryn: If you know that girl, you DANG sure better be posting more pictures!
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“When his phone is not ringing, it’s ME not calling!” I’ll try it. Thank you. I’m also going to call my effing counselor. I don’t know HOW to get over this, and I guess I need some help. –R
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RYN: Why not Montreal AND the big bucks?
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RYN: You’re right about being tempted to stay and play it out a bit longer, but it’s all about being able to see the bigger picture. My part in this scene is part of a larger story…but I still have to write my story, and it’s gotta be one that’s large enough for me to live in! Once and for all, I have to be the playwright, and not play anyone else’s role…even if it’s a flattering one. Savvy?
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ryn~ It’s circus colors. The Big Top. Get it? Look at the Front Page. Where ya beeeen, dood?
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There….is that better now? OD spell checker sucks — I never use it. Always hangs on me 🙁
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Read the message at the end of my entries…maybe that will help let go of the ego a tad.
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