2 stories over fresh ingredients

the bus is packed. there are only a few seats left, and i nab the last two-seater bench that is unoccupied. the bike rack on the front is filled soi am forced to keep my bike awkwardly positioned in the 2nd doorway towards the back of the bus. every time a person gets on the bus and works there way towards the back - i get up, lift the front tire of my bike to allow them to pass (it's blocking the center aisle) and then reposition it without hitting the other riders who are within striking distance of my front tire.

all that to say what was most interesting about this ride was an awkwardly dressed middle aged gentleman with an obscure hair cut and what appeared to be an ancient walking stick with a furry handle staring excitedly at everyone who got on the bus, and then the rest of us who were already riding. he would say "hi hi" to every person that passed with a three year olds passion, as if he had just learned to speak and was showing off for his parent's friends. it was strangely beautiful.

for instance, he saw a crossing guard outside the bus and would raise his hand to wave through the window as we passed at 30 mph. he'd shout out a "hey buddy" and then just turn back to the people in the bus as if he gave a casual hello to that crossing guard every day.

as people climbed onto the bus he would stare intently with these begging eyes. eyes that eagerly awaited an opportunity to talk to anyone. not creepy and not scary - but a bit intense none the less. and although he had some clear needs, he was not in any obviously way, "slow." this grown man who looked upon every interaction with childlike pleasure did not appear to have some life crippling condition, or obvious mental disability. he was not someone to take pity on.

i wanted to talk to him. i wanted to know his story. i wanted to fulfill his apparent desire to talk and share life with another person who didn't seem him as a social misfit. it was a joy to share the few min we had left on the ride with him.
i want to know how to pray for him.
i want learn more of how to serve the people i meet - especially those outside my day to day.
those who are touch and go.

one more story before bed...

yesterday/today i rode the bus across from a women who kept trying to sell the man sitting behind her this red box that contained two christmas-themed angel earings. for whatever reason (maybe proximity) she did not ask anyone else. every time she would ask, show would drop the price. she finally was down to offering the earrings for one dollar. the man still said "no thank you."

clearly disappointed she reaches into her pocket and pulls out this stained, wrinkled copy of "our daily bread," which is a sort of jesus-centered devotional filled with daily inspirational readings. she was feverishly reading - flying through page after page of this book as though if she stopped reading she would burst into tears.

the bus continues on for ten more minutes before we arrive at kennedy plaza. we get off the bus and i approach her. i offer her some money for her earrings, she takes it, and we talk for a few min about life, god, and busses - and then...God just seemed show up in a close, physically present way. the kind of feeling that just compels you to pray - and thank him for what it is to be alive and share what we have with each other, and listen to one other, not just waiting for your turn to speak. blessed.

after the conversation with the woman i took my normal walk (often it's a bike ride) through downtown and up the east side. stopped in at the cable car as i usually do, purchased an evening coffee, said hi to a friend and then headed to wickenden. it was a tuesday, so i walked over to the farmers market behind cafe zog and picked up enough veggies, eggs, and cheese for a few omelette's and wraps this week. they had some beautiful tomatoes, fresh cheese, zucchini bread and an excess of sunflowers. from the bus ride, to cable car coffee, to running into random friends, to the farmers market - it all it all reminded me of my deepening love for this city and the creator and lover of it all.

goodnite. visit the market.

bus 14

the other day i was writing another story in my journal about riding the bus and i thought about how fun it would be to share my bus stories here. i think my thursday entry would have been titled "pvd bus terrorized my love and coffee spills," or on tuesday it would have been a bit more somber to the tune of "lonely and lost with a furry cane." i want to tell these stories.

some background: the reason i began riding the city bus was because i had entered a season of life where i was able to fast from my car. i mean live without it completely. i just don't need it (9 times out of ten). there is a trolley stop in front of house and i have a bike that i love to ride everywhere. so - city errands, meetings, and other responsibilities are entirely reachable without a car. the only other weekly traveling i do is to the office 2-3 times a week. the office is about 20 min away, and there is a bus that gets me there in approx 35 min. no pressing need for a car.

now there are the obvious reasons i would fast from car use such as environmental and financial (i save almost $300 a mo). in addition there is the order and rhythm that it brings to my life. i remember my grandfather talking about his hour long train ride from the hudson valley to nyc every morning and evening. how he would read the paper, reflect on the day, organize his mind, ramp up and cool down - how the train brought peaceful, rewarding consistency to life.

now in no way does my tired city bus match the romance of the ny expressway, but i like to think of my bus 14 having new england tracks beneath it, and in the same way my grandfather experienced rhythm to his life through his daily travels - so have i. it was an unexpected benefit. but most unexpected of all was how my time on the bus would be used to grow my personal perspective on the poor and outcast, and provide prayers and vision for my personal relationships and ministry. i get to see a fascinating side to the city every day.

so, the stories that i document privately, i'll start to share publicly in hopes they'll bring a little perspective on those we live near but don't often see, and trigger ways we can learn, pray, and care for... each other, our neighbors, people i guess - ha.

koom wernda (20 ft tall)