on meeting [seeing myself in] a man
last night i met a man. met a man, what do you mean?
i mean, not a boy, not an adolescent, not a pre/during/just post-mid-life-crisis of the male gender.
i mean a man.
what is a man to me? what did i see?
i sat with a male who to me was comfortable in his skin. at ease. he was not posturing, not projecting, not apologizing, not ‘perfect.’ he was himself. how do i know? i don’t know, thank god. instead… i felt it.
he was on time. he gave me a magazine (gift) that was relevant (backpacker magazine, ie: he gave it some thought, wasn’t afraid to give it to me). he didn’t ask me about photography, ‘if i want to know about f-stops i’ll google it,’ …’if i want to know where you have traveled, i’ll look at your website’…he knew that was my work and said ‘don’t want to know about your work, i want to know about you.’ by the way, with eye contact.
his vest kept beeping, i sent it and him a sideways glance. ‘it’s my phone, telling me i have emails. i am reaching for it right now to turn it off.’ and he did. he brought up an entry in my blog, asked deep pointed questions, really wanted answers, didn’t question dodge, didn’t diss his last girlfriend, he always let me go first… and i let him. walked me to my car, happily… gave a gentlemanly hug… and i let him.
why i am BLOGGING about this? i mean, it’s pretty personal and he might actually read this. it’s ok- it’s not for him, its for me and others. it’s about a certain time in life when one is able to recognize and feel these things. why is what i experienced last night so rare? why up until last night do i see now what it feels like to be in the presence of a man? well i get it. men, are so wonderful. males are great and also wonderful, an absolute miracle like all of nature but a man… a man is a true work of art, a work of time, mistakes, suffering, pain, joy, tears, forgiveness, humility, presence, fortitude, strength… wisdom. (can you see the mountain?) i am starting to believe people are like wine, trees, wrinkles. it just takes time, it takes patience, experience, snowstorms, altitude, blisters, stitches, dark chocolate (oh, that’s me) more time and most of all grace.
last night i felt grace surround me. it felt like the sweetest dance, a gentle, colorful, sparkling dance of wisdom and grace quietly wrapping around me with warm, cool, texture, breeze, muscle, intelligence, and finesse.
life takes time. why do we stress aging? it gets better and better and better and better and it makes me shiver down to my core, sparkle, giggle, get weak at my knees and smile for days, tingling… thinking about the the next grateful encounter.
know what else just happened? i got to see where i am right now, in this person. life is a mirror. i’m the one giving myself shivers.