Last night I worked late and was waiting for BART. For the first time in weeks, I felt truly happy. DeLauer's was saved, my stimulus check from the government is coming this week, and life was good.
I was waiting for the Pittsburg/Bay Point train when the Richmond train arrived. I was reading a biography of Florence Ballard when I saw a man running for the train. Nothing odd about this; people run for the train everyday. One of the reasons why I joined a gym is so when I ran for the train in the morning, I would not be out of breath afterwards. What was different about this man is he was wearing beautiful golden and red robes. On his feet were sandals. Then it hit me: This gentleman looked like the Dalai Lama.
I couldn't stop staring at him. He made it on the train without any trouble, then talked to another gentleman who was wearing a white baseball hat and black baggy shorts. Suddenly I wanted to go on the train. I wanted to go on the train and ask him "Hey, are you the Dalai Lama?" Then of course, both parts of my brain started to bicker.
Right Side: Get on the train! You can catch the Pittsburg/Bay Point on the other side. This is amazing.
Left Side: You honestly think it's he Dalai Lama? Okay, if that's the Dalai Lama, why is he taking BART? Doesn't he have a limousine?
The left side won. I got on my train, but the trains ran close together. From my window seat, I could see The Possible His Holiness The Dalai Lama sitting on the train, chatting with his friend. I looked around me. Had anyone else saw him? Was I the only one that noticed? Did anyone see what I just saw?
Of course, I started to beat myself up. I should have gotten on the train. I should've talked to the man. I'm not sure what I would've said. I was raised Catholic and for the life of me, I couldn't remember the name I should address him as. With Catholics it's pretty easy; it's Father this, Father that. We had a Monsignor at our school, and every time he came in our classroom, we automatically stood up. He always had a little smile on his face as if he was thinking, "Boy, I've got these kids trained." Years later when I mentioned to someone that I just met where I went to school, he said, "Hey, I went there too! There was this really old Monsignor and we always had to stand up when he entered the room!" Nothing changes.
Then I remembered of course, I would call him His Holiness, not Hey You or Dalai, my main man. I don't know what I would've said to him. Maybe hello, or maybe just use him as an Agony Aunt for a while. My life has been so topsy-turvy; I have a new kitten I adore, but I also had some money problems that makes me worry. I have to send my mom's computer to Gateway in order for them to fix it. I now have access to the Internet but the sound on my laptop isn't working and I've misplaced the serial number so I don't know who to contact to get it fixed. Why does everything come so quick, so fast? Why does everything mount up so much?
I don't know what he would've said. He might have smiled and nodded a lot. Then I would also tell him a story that happened to me that morning.
I was walking to BART. I'm just so grumpy and angry at the world. I made a mistake of reading a blogger whose political views are so different from mine it's amazing we live in the same area. I also made a mistake of seeing where I was on the Red Room tally. Number three. Number three? I want to be number one! I want to go to the St. Francis! I want a massage and a evening out, damnit! Well, that settles it. Everything is mucked up, we're all going to hell in a hand basket.
Then I saw the deer.
This is not anything new. Where I live, it is hilly and deer come down a lot. The first time I saw one I told my cousin right away and she said "Um, Jen? That's why they call it Deer Hill Road." Okay, so I'm a city slicker from Pleasant Hill. Still, when I see deer, I am amazed by their presence.
Anyway, I saw a mother deer and her two children. Her children ran away and they looked at her as if they were saying "Come on, Mama! It's a PERSON. It's a WOMAN."
The mother deer would not stop staring at me. I could not stop staring at her. I felt all my worries, all the things I had been obsessing about disappear.I was reminded of the lyrics to the song "Falling Slowly" that goes: And you have suffered enough/and warred with yourself/it's time that you won.
Everything was temporary. Somehow, I'll muddle through it and then it will turn out.
I hope that if I told that story to His Possible Holiness, he would have enjoyed it. Then maybe we would have sat there for a while in silence, and I would point out the sun setting. We could have seen how pink the sky was, how the sun looked like an orange ball you tossed around on the sidewalk.
Causes Jennifer Gibbons Supports
Gilda's Club, Greenpeace, Rosie's Broadway Kids,Westwind Foster Family Agency, Amber Brown Fund, Linda Duncan Fund for Contra Costa Libraries