I Wish I Had & I'm Glad I Did

About a year ago today I would have labeled myself a runner. My alarm pulled me out of bed in the morning like a marionette doll, lacing my tennis shoes, bending me forward, backward, and side to side to stretch my sleepy, creaky body. Long before the sun turned skyscrapers into silhouettes, the sound of my feet striking pavement filled the eerie silence of sleeping city streets. I navigated the same greenway every day with the spotlight from my headlamp lighting my path. Like a horse with blinders, I was blind to my peripherals - the world outside my narrow vision sped on by without my cognizance.

About a year ago today I stopped running. Almost overnight, an overuse injury halted my early morning frolic through city streets to a sudden stop.

About a year ago today, I started walking the greenway I used to run. The soft sound of my footsteps making contact with pavement was drowned out by tires rounding tight corners and cars waging honking wars. Sunlight filled my eyes and lit my peripherals - the panoramic world moved in motion with me at the pace of my strides. So much life became visible that I was missing at faster paces during dark hours.

About a year ago today I passed two homeless men holding each other intently through uninterrupted eye contact and impassioned conversation. They did not look upon passersby with pleading eyes but rather into each other with magnetic admiration. I slowed my steps to hold them in the corner of my eye until I could no longer look without craning my neck. That is what church looks like, I thought to myself while the communion of intimacy they shared slipped out of the grasp of my sight.

Down the street, I was about to swipe my card to pay for a cup of coffee when a tiny impulse quickly grew into an irresistible temptation. It was Valentine’s Day and all the Hallmark love in the air must’ve been getting to me because the smell of coffee cake in imperfect heart shapes smelt particularly delightful. “Can I have a coffee cake as well,” I asked excitedly.

“and two forks, please?” The barista’s perplexed eyes peered behind me looking for my missing companion.

I am gluten-free. The coffee cake wasn’t for me.

I walked back towards my apartment where trepidation replaced the pep in my step. I could see the bench grow larger and larger into view as I came closer - the aurora still surrounding the two men who appeared to be hanging onto one another’s every last word. Even when I was in front of them, not even my presence tore their eyes from their deep interlocked gaze.

“Hi.” The clumsy words fumbled through my lips as I simultaneously questioned what I was doing as I was doing it.

“I saw you sitting here not too long ago, I brought you some cake from the coffee shop down the street.”

They looked at me perplexed but in a tender way.

“I hope you like cake.” I grimaced at the awkwardness that seeped through every pore in my body. I wasn’t sure why I was doing any of this - my body was moving and my mind was racing to catch up.

“I like cake the man on the right said softly, but he doesn’t like cake as much as me referencing his older companion,” as a smile spread across both of their faces. They sat closely with only enough space for the pastry box to part them and I took a seat on the cement next to their feet, holding tightly to my coffee. We exchanged names and I learned the two men with smile lines etched deeply into their cheeks and sun-speckled skin were brothers. The older of the two was Adrian and the younger was William. We chatted here and there but mostly we sat in silence - silence that felt light with appreciation and reverence, a kind of silence that you only find with loved ones. Before we parted, Adrian and William gave me a hug. William asked me to call him Wil, with one “l”, and told me to stop by again sometime.

and I did

Most times I walked that greenway I would find Wil on the same bench I first met him on that Valentine's Day. His warm smile and kind, watery eyes that always look like they have just shed tears brought me a solitude I can’t quite explain. I’ve never seen eyes quite like his, eyes that look like they hold an ocean of wisdom, heartbreak, love, and wealth all at once.

Over time, Wil slowly shared pieces of himself. He pretends to sleep so he can get the alone time he needs to think. He prefers strawberry jam over grape jam. He told me that soul food is good for you and that it doesn’t matter that it makes your tummy round if it makes your heart happy. I don’t know much about William, he could be a noble peace prize winner or a man with a run of bad luck, but what I do know is that he has a brother named Adrian who visits on Sundays, he will happily trade a hug for a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich, and he has warm, loving eyes.

I couldn’t be more different than William, from the color of my skin to the bed I sleep on at night, but I like his presence and I like the sound of his voice every time he says “I am so happy to see you again” and I know he too likes the sound of mine as I repeat the same words back.

Before I left their bench that initial Valentine’s Day, Adrian asked me why I brought them cake. I responded, “everyone deserves to be loved on Valentine’s Day,” but it wasn’t until days later that I realized that it was not them who needed to feel loved, it was me. Their magnetic love for one another drew me in I wanted to feel every corner of it. That day and many days that came after, we all felt a new kind of love - the love of a stranger with an open heart.

I have found that life is a series of I wish I had’s or I’m glad I did’s that are the consequence of choice. There is grave power in choice that can be just as frightening as it is beautiful. The outcome of choice follows no law or science. A seemingly life-altering choice may turn out to be trivial and a seemingly trivial choice may turn out to be life-altering. In most situations, it is nearly inconceivable to predict outcomes with accuracy, but for some reason, being outcome driven is so heavily stressed, so much so that it is taught in our education system, preached in the workforce, and perpetuated on social media.

In most life happenings, you cannot, with near certainty, predict the outcome; instead of trying to guess the result, make the decision that allows you to be the person that you want to be in this world. That is the power of choice - the ability to choose how you want to show up in the one life you have.

I will continue to make mistakes, I know this to be true, but what matters is not that wrong decisions are made, what matters is knowing that the choice I made authentically flowered from my pursuit of being the person I want to be.

I am deeply joyed that a heart-shaped coffee cake, at first trivial in nature, proved to be life-altering. I am deeply joyed that I get to say, I’m glad I did.

Welcome to the new readers that joined us this week, I am so happy to have you here. I have received an influx of support and kind words over the past few weeks and I can’t tell you how much it means to me. You’ll notice a new comment section below, hopefully, that makes it easier to share feedback. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. I’ll see you here next week!