Community

Just about every time I run along the Los Gatos Creek Trail, I see this older gentleman running. And judging by the different points along the trail that I have seen him, he runs quite far-pretty much every time I see him. In my mind I imagine him running 20 miles a day. That's probably not the truth, but I don't know, so I make up a story in my head.

I like to smile and say good morning to the people I see out there, whether they are running, walking, cycling, rollerblading, whatever it might be. Just to be kind, and friendly, and hey- why not just smile and say good morning to everyone you see?

Some smile back, some wave, some do a head nod. Others avoid eye contact. 20-mile-per-day-guy never looks up. He wears a red headband,headphones in his ears, John Lennon sunglasses, and shuffles along relentlessly. I try to make eye contact every time, to smile or nod. But he never looks over.

I've been tempted to say loudly "Good Morning!" but that would be intrusive. Not everyone comes out there to be friendly. Everyone has a reason to be out there. Sometimes it's getting in shape, sometimes it's getting faster, sometimes it being social, and sometimes it's to get away from everybody. What better way to get away from the world than to put your headphones and sunglasses on, and go out and run 20 miles?

Yesterday morning on my run, I spotted him up in the distance. My pace was a little quicker, so I was closing the gap. I made a decision. As I ran past him, just as I got past his elbow and knew he'd probably glance over (as anyone would), I just lightly raised my hand in a courteous wave.

"Good morning." I heard him say as I passed by.

I smiled. Amazing! I suddenly felt like Diane Lane in "Under the Tuscan Sun" where she's been waving to this old man every day for a year or whatever, and he finally turns around and waves back.

I saw him on the path again as I turned and headed towards home. He didn't look up. And yes, I can see his eyeballs behind his glasses. But I still felt a small sense of victory.

There are regulars on that path that I'm especially fond of seeing. Another older gentleman who walks. He raises his hand up as I come toward him and says "Good morning!" with a big smile on his face.

There's a middle aged woman with long beautiful braids and an eternal smile on her face. One that you can't help but smile back. She walks as if the entire world is beautiful. I smile and say good morning and she lights up even more, as if that were possible. The positivity I feel at that moment is incredible.

There's a really fast guy with wraps on both knees. He always looks excited to see me and always waves.

I realize we are our own community out there. Made of so many different people, joined together consistently, sharing in joy, pain, frustration, focus, daydreams.

My gym is a community. I go to Gold's Gym, which is fairly notorious for the meathead/bodybuilding atmosphere. It was close, the hours are convenient, and there's plenty of squat racks to go around. That's how I judge a gym. How many squat racks they have.

Stanley and I talk whenever we see each other. He asks where I've been- reminding me that I've been slacking off. Stanley's lost a lot of people he loves lately. Every couple of months he tells me how someone else in his life has just died. He's in the gym most days and I think it gives him a bit of a release, or something to take his mind off his grief.

There are a couple of trainers who recognize me, smile and say good morning and ask how I'm doing.

Most of the other faces in the morning, I recognize. There are several competitive bodybuilders that come in.

I warm up on the stationary bike facing the large weight room and watch the interactions between all the regulars and it reminds me of a high school locker room. 

My church is a community. Several faces light up when I arrive, I get hugs and some conversation. Rod, an older gentleman (I'm terrible with guessing age), sits next to me during the service. I'm new to Buddhism, so I glance over to watch his actions. When he uses his onenju beads in gasho, when he closes his eyes, when he nods his head toward the service book in gratitude. I listen to his chants to try to set my own tone, which I feel is always either too high pitched or too low. I like when there's a woman around me and I can match my pitch to hers. Rod has also started bringing me produce from the farmers market. Gotta watch that one....

Everyday we're part of a community, and sometimes, like myself, we're part of several. Like a fish jumping into neighboring fish bowls. We're supported and we give support. Even if it's just knowing that there's somebody else there, that we aren't alone. A head nod, a "good morning", a wave or smile. A hug, inquiry into how we're doing, a little bag of cherries.

Whatever your community, or communities, jump in and take part. Brighten someone's day. Whatever we're doing, we're all in it together.