Peripheral Vision

Riding on the bus, I watch the buildings as we pass them by, block by block. Usually, I am the driver, not the passenger, so although I may glimpse the same buildings, it’s only in a peripheral sense. I’m never able to consider their essence. 

Now, as our giant Muni vehicle lumbers by, block by block, I notice the cracks and peeling paint, the defacements, the vulnerabilities of many of these aging structures.

I also see those people on the sidewalks and bus stops with different eyes. As a driver, they are a constant cause for concern. So many elderly, young, distracted, or disabled people populate our sidewalks that I'm constantly worrying about making sure they do not edge out in front of my car.

As a passenger on the bus, these fellow residents become the object of my study. I am no longer their protector, hoping not to inadvertently hurt them, but an observer, curious about their stories.

Everyone has a story. Few get told.

That old woman, bent over at the waist, proceeding along at a pace resembling that of a melting glacier, or that robust man, dressed up as a woman opera singer, or that baby with the bright eyes…

I’m finally really seeing them now.

Whenever we are in a hurry, for reasons good or bad; or whenever we are in an unnatural position of unnatural control (such as being the driver), we miss a lot. 

Our essential selves have no power whatsoever. We are entirely vulnerable to the whims of nature, of human constructs, and (if you prefer) of the gods. We are all passengers on this planet.

Time comes. Time goes. People come. People also go, often quite suddenly, without any warning. Words get spoken. Words remain unspoken. We all underestimate the effects we have on one another. That appears to be our collective fate, which is our greatest sadness.

I am a writer, As long as I can breathe, I hope I also will write. Word by word, I am attempting to tell a story. It's not really my story exactly; it's our story.

NOTE: This is from 2012. My car was in the shop.