The Guy on the Street

[Note: this posting is repeated from September 13th; I posted two items that day but blog analytics didn't indicate readership of this item so I am repeating it today.] 

So this guy sits down on the park bench. The day is warm – mid 80’s – but the humidity is low – 40% (in Chicago that’s low). It is mid September so heat remains but dryness is returning. The trees remain green but hints of change exist. Fall will come in two weeks with colorful leaves and cooler nights. October will retain warm days but mild temperatures and very low humidity. Soft breezes will push air around with grace and delicacy. This is the time of year to hope for.

OK, so the guy is sitting in the park. This is an urban park. Streets are busy with cars moving the speed limit of 30 mph. About a mile away the expressway is in full swing for a mid-day week day. Traffic hums – really it roars! – and the entire neighborhood echoes the sounds. The city is at work, not play.

The man is in his early 60’s, maybe late 60’s. He has time to sit in the park. He has time to think about many things. Today that is health and purpose and time line. The three go together neatly. Not always, but most of the time.

If health is in question then life’s purpose is pondered; did I do what I wanted to do? Was enough accomplished to conclude my life was fully lived and worthwhile for others? And just how long do I have to remain on this earth?

Well now, those are weighty questions. Downers to some extent. But he doesn’t seem to be down. No, he seems humored somewhat. Every now and then he lets a chuckle escape from his lips. Why is that? Moments later he grins, shakes his head, gets up and walks farther into the park.

Tall trees tower over him. Birds are producing a veritable symphony. Children are playing nearby and yeeking and laughing and crying. Not a din but a hubbub of life noises celebrating their activity.

Dappled light results from sunlight filtered by many branches. The breeze is softened and barely noticeable. The temperatures, however, have dropped a few degrees.

Leaving the park on the far side the fellow strides moderately but purposefully toward a small restaurant. It is one of those places that have been a witness to the neighborhood for decades. The paint is worn, the sign a little battered and hanging slightly alop. The door is weather beaten and sports gnarly edges chewed by a hundred thousand hands, purses, and packages passing through the portal.

He steps into the shop. Steamy smells of coffee, soups and gravies tickle his interest. He chooses a stool at the counter. It is early for lunch, but it is time for him. An early riser any time after 11 am is lunchtime. And maybe a hot sandwich or another breakfast or what? What will suit his fancy today?

He doesn’t glance at the menu. He knows it by heart. He’ll await the waitress to suggest something but most likely he will opt for a tried and true selection – sliced avocado, toasted chicken sandwich with melted cheese. Water with ice. No soup. Light and no chips or fries.

He knows his time is free to indulge in more food but it would only slow him down, fatten him, and complicate health matters. Not that anything is much wrong. Just the normal age related issues most people have around retirement and later. He’s OK for now but slowing down.

He thinks about his career and his family. He ticks off the accomplishments and the successes of his kids. They are settled and happy. They are stable and in challenging, interesting jobs. They are smart and educated, able to adjust with change as it happens, even after. Mostly they anticipate change and prepare for it. No, his kids will do just fine without his help.

And his finances are stable. He has interests that trail on from his once active life and he now has focus and fun arrayed before him. Writing, coaching, mentoring, reading, more writing, pondering long term needs and problems society needs to solve.

His time line is long yet. The family is long lived and promises the same for him. He’ll make it to the 80’s for sure and most likely the 90’s. Not sure he wants such longevity; depends on whether the time is productive and meaningful. And relatively healthy.

Time. Not on his hand but on his mind and instigating thoughts. Which thoughts will become ideas to share and write about? Which will be useful to others? How will the ideas be used to address human needs?

And why should he care? Hmm. That question is not a real poser. He cares because he has the time to care.

And he ought to. It gives him purpose and satisfaction.

September 23, 2016