Balance

Today, as though in respect for my confusion and anxiousness over life these days, Los Angeles was in a bit of a funk. The sky held gray; the sun shooo’d and snoozed the afternoon away, and when I went to pick up my salad for lunch at the bakery down the corner I walked with an umbrella of clouds above my endlessly thoughtful brain.

I’m craving a good rain; a soothing pelting of water hitting pavement. The rhythmic swoosh of tires in puddles, of the city receiving its bath. I’m craving the brightness that occurs after the rain, how colors pop and the earth does its wet dog shake. Renewal and peace.

After work I went for an evening walk around Brentwood. I walked with the phone glued to my ear, a long conversation with Mom. Bottle of water and keys in hand, passing other sweaty shiny-faced walkers and joggers, the occasional biker. My feet hit the dirt path, kicking up dust as I trudged on. The magic hour of dusk arrived when the lighting is soft and sweet and kind, and when a friend of a friend tapped my shoulder to say hello as he jogged by, I was happy to see him.

I went to Blockbuster on San Vicente after to rent a few movies and then I treated myself to some PinkBerry across the street. Standing in line in front of me was a handsome young man. He wore faded ripped jeans and a white t-shirt and walked with a severe limp. It wasn’t until I turned to go pick up my yogurt that I saw he was missing his left arm.

My stomach dropped. My heart ached with such a feeling of sadness and helplessness. Of course I didn’t know what happened to him, but I imagined him a soldier. Ever curious, I wondered the details of what he had endured.

He limped past me after he picked up his yogurt and gave me a smile. I smiled back and said, “Hi!” and out he went. I wondered if he had a girlfriend. I saw a woman in the store look at him with a look of honest disgust and I wanted to run my nails through her skin for being so cruel.

Seeing him centered me. Reminded me that I am frivolous for frowning. I looked for him after I left the store, but he had been swept up in the clusters of walkers and diners in the night.

I returned to my empty apartment. Took out the garbage. Threw open the patio door and kitchen window to let that wonderful Mediterranean breeze filter through. I took a hot rinse and put on my softest pair of PJs. Grabbed my yogurt and snuggled on the couch to watch my movie. When it was through I turned off the television and just listened to the sounds of Brentwood: the garble of the washing machine down the hall; the soft wave of conversation; the clap-clap of my blinds and the sudden bang of a door slam.

I stared at my candle, flickering on, enduring in my dim living room, ensnared within my little pocket of silence. And then I felt it. A flutter of peace.

Life confusion be damned!