Center of the universe

I went for a half-hour walk during lunch time today. It was nice and blustery but not raining and loads of folks were out and about. I walked maybe a half dozen blocks and it was quite a nice break from a fairly stressful day. I’d been working several deadline projects after being out on the road five of the last seven weeks and while I love the work I do, the prospect of being on the road again next week was making me wonder if I would ever get caught up on my desk work.

My universe was a bit off kilter and since I’m the center of my universe, this does not bode well for the rest of you who occupy various nooks and crannies in it. Thus, the walking break. It’s about caring, you know.

I found myself making note of some of the people I encountered:

·         The guy in the Purdue sweatshirt, pushing a baby in a stroller;

·         The imperious woman with her  hair in a severe bun and wearing a trench coat with neither crease nor wrinkle;

·         The young Asian guy who was wrapping up and putting away his ear buds while he walked;

·         An African mom and little daughter in animal patterned head wraps, looking at the walk-through fountain (they opted not to walk through);

·         The monorail driver who looked as bored as ever a man has looked;

·         A mother and daughter from out of town, carrying shopping bags and gazing around in wonder;

·         An older, thin gentleman (okay, he could be an ass, but I imagined him a gentleman) in tight pants, with a tightly wrapped umbrella in one hand and holding his shirt collar tightly, tightly  closed with the other as he walked primly down the precise center of the sidewalk;

·         Howling tourists on the DUKW (yes, a duck tour);

·         The girl on the cell phone around whom others were steering because she was clearly not going to alter her course to avoid collisions;

·         The CADMAN transit truck driver creeping slowly through the crowded intersection because you just can’t stop a loaded cement truck in a hurry;

·         The ancient guy with long, gray hair selling Real Change and shivering;

·         The busker just breaking out his guitar and getting comfy on his stool;

·         A beggar on the corner with a sign that read “I need a fat bitch.” While I watched, not a person put money in his cup. Justice lives.

·         A couple of hard hats walking the perimeter of the shopping center remodel area, making sure there were no safety hazards.

Each of these folks is a center of the universe. It’s all about point of view.

That walk calmed me right down.  Walks do that.