...several thin rectangles of marble, a navy blue fleece pullover, The Complete Poems of Leonard Cohen, the Songwriter's Market, the Narcotics Anonymous Handbook, a large box full of cassette tapes, two pairs of black high heels, a pair of gold moccasins, a wooden case for poker chips and cards, two ties, a pair of large chinos, an old projector case, a sack full of burlap-like material, a memory foam pillow, numerous creams and shampoos, a salt and pepper shaker that have a stand to hold them because they taper into a point from the shaker top down. (This arrangement reminds me of Kwak beer, about which Wikipedia says, "As with other Belgian beers, Kwak has a branded glass with its own distinctive shape. The Kwak glass has attracted attention because it is a round-bottomed, hour-glass shaped glass that resembles a stirrup cup[2] or 'yard of ale', which is held upright in a wooden stand—rather like a piece of old scientific apparatus.")
I believe these things to be more items from the neighbor who moved this weekend, and it makes me think about how little we know about many of the people we encounter in our daily lives. From the leavings on the Bench, I can paint a picture of a person who had dreams of being a songwriter, artist or poet. I say "who had dreams" because these items are now on the Free Bench, implying she no longer needs the books that will help her to follow her dreams. I remember this young woman as being sort of a downer, sighing and letting me know about the ways her life was hard whenever I asked how she was. Of course, it likely was hard. Had I known she had the longings of a poet, something in me would have softened.
The couples therapist John Gottman notes how important it is to know the dreams of our partners and to do what we can to help those dreams come true. I think his idea reflects the importance of our dreams. They are imbued with our essence. They say something about the person we can sometimes see ourselves as; and it is so amazing to be seen as that by someone else. Instead of thinking of my former neighbor as an Eeyore, thinking of her as a songwriter would have tapped into the part of me that could see her as more than what she seemed. Of course, we are all more than what we seem. I could use remembering that more.
P.S. Of course, maybe she doesn't need the books anymore because she has succeeded, she has arrived. That is possible. One former resident in this same apartment house was working on a memoir when she lived there. It was very well received, and she was able to move to a nicer place with the proceeds. So there you go!
No comments:
Post a Comment