Mysterious Strangers
Posted by Cherelle-Renee on Monday, November 9, 2015
It could be the performer in the subway station with the brightly colored wool cap and the deep soulful voice who you pass every day on your way to work but have never actually spoken to. It could be the loveably awkward teenage coffee shop worker who's off in her own world but still knows how to make a mean white chocolate mocha. Maybe it's the elderly gentleman who always sits on the same bench in the park, reading the paper while his aging German shepherd sits loyally by his side. Mysterious strangers are those people who add color to life just by being who they are, where they are. We don't need to know anything about them. Just the fact that they are there, quietly (or not so quietly) exuding their personality for you to wonder about, adds color and whimsy to life.
Each of those people has a story. With most of them, you'll never know that story, but to them, it is fiercely real, unquestionably valid. Sometimes, it almost seems like knowing anything about them would break the spell, like just watching them be themselves is enough and anything beyond that would just be awkward.
There's a middle-aged gentleman I see in the park sometimes. He's never without his camera, and almost always surrounded by animals, feeding squirrels and ducks to get a chance at a good close-up. It's fascinating to watch. His gentleness and respect toward the park wildlife serves as a quiet reminder of the value of tenderness in a world increasingly lacking in that quality. While there are a lot of things I'd love to know about this man, I will probably never approach him. What would I say to him that wouldn't sound incredibly cheesy? The awkwardness would ruin the magic in a way.
A few weeks ago, I was walking around downtown Minneapolis. I saw a young woman singing along with her mp3 player, her powerful, expressive voice echoing through the tunnel-like acoustic created by the rows of buildings. She didn't seem to notice or care who saw her. She was in her own world and apparently loving every minute of it. And she was absolutely beautiful. I wanted to tell her that. Tell her how much I loved her voice. But if I had, she may have stopped singing. It would have broken the spell for both of us.
Other mysterious strangers, I would speak to if I were about a hundred times more outgoing. Like the artist in my favorite coffee shop. He always sits in the same place by the window, filling notebooks with colorful drawings. He noticed me watching him draw once. I blushed, but managed to give him the thumbs up sign. We smile at each other if we happen to run into each other, but I will probably never actually approach him. I bet we'd have some interesting conversations, though.
In today's world, people are often so busy trying to get somewhere, and if they aren't trying to get somewhere, they're engrossed in their cell phones or tablets. I wish we'd take more time just to notice our fellow humans, notice the world around us. Take time to wonder, to enjoy what other people contribute just by being there. Not necessarily talk to everyone who looks interesting. Not everyone wants that, and sometimes people just need a break from having to engage others. Just notice who and what is around you, being aware of their beauty and allow yourself to be fascinated.
Each of those people has a story. With most of them, you'll never know that story, but to them, it is fiercely real, unquestionably valid. Sometimes, it almost seems like knowing anything about them would break the spell, like just watching them be themselves is enough and anything beyond that would just be awkward.
There's a middle-aged gentleman I see in the park sometimes. He's never without his camera, and almost always surrounded by animals, feeding squirrels and ducks to get a chance at a good close-up. It's fascinating to watch. His gentleness and respect toward the park wildlife serves as a quiet reminder of the value of tenderness in a world increasingly lacking in that quality. While there are a lot of things I'd love to know about this man, I will probably never approach him. What would I say to him that wouldn't sound incredibly cheesy? The awkwardness would ruin the magic in a way.
A few weeks ago, I was walking around downtown Minneapolis. I saw a young woman singing along with her mp3 player, her powerful, expressive voice echoing through the tunnel-like acoustic created by the rows of buildings. She didn't seem to notice or care who saw her. She was in her own world and apparently loving every minute of it. And she was absolutely beautiful. I wanted to tell her that. Tell her how much I loved her voice. But if I had, she may have stopped singing. It would have broken the spell for both of us.
Other mysterious strangers, I would speak to if I were about a hundred times more outgoing. Like the artist in my favorite coffee shop. He always sits in the same place by the window, filling notebooks with colorful drawings. He noticed me watching him draw once. I blushed, but managed to give him the thumbs up sign. We smile at each other if we happen to run into each other, but I will probably never actually approach him. I bet we'd have some interesting conversations, though.
In today's world, people are often so busy trying to get somewhere, and if they aren't trying to get somewhere, they're engrossed in their cell phones or tablets. I wish we'd take more time just to notice our fellow humans, notice the world around us. Take time to wonder, to enjoy what other people contribute just by being there. Not necessarily talk to everyone who looks interesting. Not everyone wants that, and sometimes people just need a break from having to engage others. Just notice who and what is around you, being aware of their beauty and allow yourself to be fascinated.
Random musings from the creator of Legend's Ghost.
