I had no plan that day and I was on the metro with a man who took three tries tying his tie before getting the right length. It made me smile while I stole glances at him and everyone else pretending not to see him.
Besides my general appreciation for all men in formal wear I couldn’t place why this every day unimportant task struck me has so significant and then a memory of my dad in a new suit, my brother in old one, and both of them looking at their untied ties. We were getting ready for a funeral sometime in the emotional wreckage before I started college. I honestly can’t recall which loss this was connected to, there were so many then, but that moment;the four of us looking perplexed at the tie and youtubing videos to assist made me smile. Even in the sorrow and grief there can seemingly meaningless moments that will mean something later after the pieces have fallen back into place; in a scarred, strengthened way.
That man will never know that story, and that’s okay. In fact it’s what I most love about cities the ability to be both meaningless and significant all at once.
Later after checking out the Crown Jewels( pretty legit ) I got turned around and walked over a mile off track and another back to a metro stop in an exceptionally business concrete jungle of London and I was annoyed. I thought I was getting the whole tube thing( only kind of). Back on the metro in a somewhat of a huff I saw this young woman, perhaps around or just a bit younger than myself, who looked just as defeated with her situation and I noticed her shoes. They were at one point vibrant, but time and life dulled them, not unlike it does to us.
I’ve been reading and making notes in Cheryl strayed’s novel 'Wild' and she talked about horses as her mothers religion, and it occurred to me travel is mine. I think my dad’s is the family, his father’s church and carpentry, and that maybe that’s our greatest task in life; find where the world, God, or any form of connection to this universe becomes clarified, and life is renewed in us and our tired souls.
I have one day left and I feel that I should say I’m sad to go, and there’s truth in that, but most honestly I’m grateful for this truth; for love, life, and travel, It’s not in having something forever but being blessed enough to have it ever, even for one breathe.
I will likely become dulled again, like that young woman’s shoes — I only hope that in the time in between these travels it can still be deciphered that I was once vibrant with life.
