A Little Attention, Please
I’m speed walking across the diagonal intersection, one earbud in, rushing to beat the signal and get to my D.C. hotel to check out. The man on the street corner starts talking. I’m checked out. It doesn’t fully register until I’m past him. I’m not sure it’s to me. But I know. And I’m thankful for the cover of the earbud. Now I’m batting away the familiar harangues. “I didn’t notice.” “I didn’t have cash anyway.” “I don’t want to enable.” What I know deeper down is that I didn’t even acknowledge his existence. Not with a word. Not with a glance. And it felt amiss. For all the complexities and rationales, what I notice is my actions led away from ease and created dis-ease. I’m tempted to turn around just to say I see you but can’t help but keep walking. A couple hours later, I brought the extra bottle of water from the hotel that I almost left. I hoped I’d run into him or someone who could use it. He’s still at the same corner. Baking in 90-degree heat. This time, I make eye contact. He asks for money. I say I have none, but would he like a bottle of water. “Oh, God, yes!” Reaching, he apologizes for his essential tremor and gives me the most sincere thank you I think I’ve ever heard. And then stops me as I’m walking away to make sure I know he means it. I haven’t solved anything, but his steps seem lighter and my steps are lighter. For just a moment.
If this resonates, I’d love to hear from you. A comment, a share, or even just a like goes a long way. Writing into the void is its own practice, but knowing the work lands makes it easier to keep showing up.