Written 21-10-08
I'm developing a glare.
The "Londoners Glare" I call it. The "Hey I'm walking here Taxi Man, and if you run me over you'll have to pay for my funeral" glare. It comes quickly, unexpectedly, when you're already in the middle of the road. Oh yes, I know he sees me. I don't quicken my pace. Head held high, I take my time to cross the street and at the last second, BAM! I flick my chin towards him, my eyes narrow and I speak calmly through them. I'm not afraid of you, Taxi Man. I dare you to try it.
Brakes screech.
I saunter on, confidently smiling. In this supposed pedestrian-friendly city it's almost impossible to cross a street without someone blaring their horn and politely asking you to step aside for them to pass, even when you have the right of way. People are in such a hurry to get where they're going that they don't take time to look around them.
Londoners hate me. On the sidewalk, or "footpath" as they say here, nothing drives a Londoner crazy like some carefree-looking individual walking at half-pace watching the clouds or noticing the architecture of the buildings without any real direction or time constraint. I very frequently get trampled by people wearing very expensive suits. These people who don't take time to look around often miss out on the wonders London has to offer, so I try to do them a favor and slow them down when I can, which I'm sure they appreciate.
When you slow down, crazy things can happen. Take for example, yesterday. It's my day off and Natalie and I have decided to go out for a stroll. We stop at a crossroad and are waiting for the little green man to tell us it's almost safe to cross the road when I look up and there's a man pointing at me. A bus blows by and my line of sight is broken for a second. I look again. The man in a suit and green tie points and screams, "Austin!"
Now, again and again, the Universe has communicated to me that the World is actually quite a small place. I am not one to question the power of nature, nor my place or my destiny. But when, in a city of 18 million people, my friend Andy Jones screams at me at a random street corner in central London, I listen. I have not seen Andy, a friend and regular at Fado Irish Pub in Austin, Texas, in months. Nor did I know he was in London. So either by a freakish coincidence or my personal belief that everything happens for a reason that here I meet up again with my friend.
After exchanging phone numbers and making plans to meet up, I walk away in stunned silence. Thinking back to the earlier morning, my mind wanders. What if I had stayed in that coffee shop, instead of getting my soy latte to-go? Would we still have met up, if it was destined to be so? Or would have life moved on, and our paths would never have crossed. So many things happen in life that I cannot explain, nor would want to if I could. These words like coincidence, fate, destiny, chance; they are only used in effort to describe the indescribable. And so I find myself at a loss, once again awed by the power that surrounds us, yet cannot touch or taste, smell or hear. We can only feel it down to our very core. There, in the center of our being, is where we find our peace.
Today was a beautiful day. The last of the sun has been shining and I feel light and free. From now on I will let the Universe guide me. I will remain open to the signs sent to me. In following my path, I hope I will cross yours soon. And I hope you will follow your heart, let it be your guide, so we can meet again. At peace
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