The Long Trip Outside Of Ourselves

I was standing in line at the drug store. The line was growing rapidly and naturally, only one person was behind the counter. I watched an older woman, swimming in her bright pink sweater, slowly maneuver her walker up to the check out. I could feel the woman behind me, every exaggerated breath and tap of her foot. Her constant sighs and not so subtle "come on!" let everyone know how deterred she was, that her day was more important than anyone else's and that this old woman was the worst kind of inconvenience. Now normally, I might have been more inclined to air on the side of anxious woman behind me, of wanting to pay for my things and get gone. But today something changed.

I have been reading a book called "An Altar in the World" and it carries the message that God and Goodness lie outside the walls of the church. And if you are willing to look for the good in situations, even the jackass that cuts you off and shoots you the bird, you can find the holiness of that moment. Clearly, this requires work on my part. I have been flipped off many times and this has never made me think of a holy moment. In fact, in times like that I typically curse God and ask why He is punishing me. But this book says consider the person. Really stop. Be calm. Look. Listen. Observe. Consider.

I knew that this woman lived around the corner in the retirement home. That she probably was once a wife but has lived the better part of her life without her husband. That she is a mother and her kids have all grown up and moved away. That the makeup she was wearing was a well thought-out effort and one that took much of her morning as she tried to construct her day, looking for reasons to get outside, to feel the sunshine, maybe even the kindness of a stranger. Anything to feel useful. Purpose.

I processed this. I fell into her story and suddenly I saw her. I felt a kind of calm come over me. I walked up behind her as she was rummaging in her bag, dissecting the receipt and occasionally asking the woman behind the counter questions- just to have a verbal exchange. Because she probably has not said much today to anyone nor anyone else to her. And the new makeup she was buying was her reason to get up tomorrow and try something new, so she can go around the corner again.

She apologized for taking too long. I said, "Don't worry about it. Can I walk you out? The door is heavy." "That would be lovely," she said and she smiled the most pure smile.

I was not anxious. I was not rushed or harried. I was completely disarmed and what was left of me was as raw and authentic as her smile. And the only work it required of me was to pay attention.

I saw her. I considered her. And I have learned that God is in the moments we decide to get outside of ourselves.