Remain in Time

One moment finds me on the bridge.

I've stepped into it like an enormous globe filled with wind, not snow, between the earth and the sky at dusk. Feet and hands fastened to the sidewalk and railing, I remain. I am anchor against the wind careening past in bursts from the cars & busses just behind my heels. My hair dances as if to ask whether I've seen the coming storm. Eyes gloss over ever so slightly from the sweeping air with retinas behind mesmerized by the flashing chop of the tidal basin's top layer - here like shining fans, across the way like perfect glass. The wind steals my breath, then becomes a monsoon of it into my lungs. 

Helicopters hopscotching between marble buildings on either side of the Potomac. Ducks dive and bob. Jets to Reagan. Swallows flit through the trees & across the water in pairs and packs. I hear nothing, and everything. Clamor blends into peaceful silence.

Yacht Approaching the Coast,  Joseph Mallord William Turner,  c. 1845

Deep indigo thunder clouds invade the bright orange & pink sky that crowns the horizon made of almost-gone cherry blossoms beginning to be covered by nightfall. Tiny white petals littered all over the ground. Flowers fading but trees that will remain here long after I ever could.

Of all movements, time might be the most relentless. 

Can I stay here like a mountain? Can I stand here sending roots down and reach the heights like a tree? Surely the trees couldn't have stretched so high if they hadn't been fastened down with integrity. Surely no mountain could remain if it hadn't found a place to rest. No. Nothing is still, but nothing is alone either. Even the sky. Even the water. They are not the same, but you can never put a definite edge around them. They are always touching. Always together.

I may rest here. I may remain, but only for a moment. I may root down with integrity, but I will never remain as I am now. I will find rest, but I will never really be stationary. On this bridge, I've found a place to remain for a moment. Between water and sky. Between day and night. Between spring and summer. Between this moment and the next. We all stand here touching each other. But we are not the same--and if we are, we cannot remain the same. Time moves us on.

12% Words

"Finally. There. Those people are leaving." My good friend Kelsey sped up and pulled in to park. "But I was just so frustrated about the pollution statements, you know. He keeps telling me they want to help and he'll come to the meetings but then totally disappears and doesn't follow through. What he's doing is good, but he can't push me to move if he won't sign the pollution stament. I'm not sure what to say. What do I tell him?"

Once inside she smiled easily. Eyes bright but relaxed. Ears & temples lifted in contentment. She chattered pleasantly with Jeff & Susan, whom we'd laid eyes on for the first time in our lives just moments before. A lot of words circulated between them and I followed about 12% of what was said.

Kelsey uses a lot of spoken words in order to organize thoughts. I use a lot of slowly organized thoughts in order to allow me to express anything verbally. She's a verbal processor. I'm a non-verbal processor. 

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As I studied their demeanor, I discovered all of them looking at me. She'd said my name, and I remembered that I was there. They expected me to do something, not just to stand with them, quietly ruminating. "Hello. It's nice to meet you." I said. They were still looking at me...Words... Should I say more of them? Which ones? Which words should I choose at random to say? Do they want me to say more words? I'll just have to think of which ones... A half second passed in silence, and when I still said nothing more, they picked back up at Jeff's cousin's business which they'd used those many circulating words to discover was very similar to Kelsey's field.

Another moment passed and I became satisfied they wouldn't require any more immediate input from me so I resumed scanning the room. Blue walls but warm light. Five conversation circles sprawling over this room and down into the hallway, then maybe six more outside. Is that a pool or a fountain? Susan stood in front of the drinks. Completely blocking them. Kels would want a beer to start. I might go for G&T. plenty of lime. That's nice that they have limes right there ready to go. Jake had great shoes but probably hadn't ironed his pants in a week. He was talking about how important his job was, but I wasn't sure what specific goal he was after. His eyes, posture & tone gave clues, but it would take time to deduce them. The only words I actually remember him saying are "political sympathies." I caught onto that phrase because he repeated it just shy of entirely too many times for it to still hold any meaning.

This room full of new people- who are they and what are they after? Where did they come from? How did they relate to each other? Are they trying to have fun or to impress each other? I engaged these and similar questions by observing cues & dynamics like blueprints - alone able to translate about 12% of it into words. Kelsey engaged these questions by asking them directly with words - alone able to translate about 12% of it into prominent themes.

Several hours in the sun and beverages later I laid on the couch at her house drinking green tea and patting the dog while staring at the ceiling in thought. Kelsey was telling me about a conversation she'd had yesterday with her mom, the vegetables in her refrigerator, and how annoying it was that the fence fell over, all at the same time. Did I want an omelette, or maybe we could go get something. Also there was water, and beer. Should we watch a movie? 

The pollution statement answer came to me. "He doesn't want to upset his partners. Didn't you tell me last week that they were meeting with the other group? Maybe they don't mind him meeting you, but he can't sign until they want to too." I said.

"What?" She walked out of the kitchen puzzled, holding something like asparagus and a box of texas toast. 

"The guy from work with the pollution statements. You asked me what I thought. I think that's why he's not signing."

Friendships between very different kinds of people, to me, are the most valuable. It is often most useful to learn by contrast. The challenge in contrast, is finding what ground is held in common, and how to translate very different approaches to expand your individual understanding. We should celebrate our differences, not just as a virtue of patience, but knowing that building a bridge through that measly 12% gives access to a categorically different kind of synergetic life that is impossible without the contrast.