Love and Attention

Love and Attention

today I saw love…

An old man sitting at the table next to me asks about my shoes. One of my friends thinks that my shoes are funny, but there’s a story behind them so I wear them proudly, except around her. Sometimes men will ask me about them. Maybe women are used to it, but whenever someone asks me about my shoes I assume I can’t understand them and that they are talking about something else. Did I drop some money on the ground? Is my order ready? Do I have a snickers bar? That’s what I thought he asked me today and I was about to tell him that it was my phone and not a snickers bar when it registered that he was asking me if my shoes were breathe-able.

today I saw love in a burrito shop…

The old man gets up, hobbling to the door. I now recognize him. He walks even more slowly than my neighbor’s dog named Guiness who comes over occasionally when his parents are yelling. No one walks more slowly than Guiness so the old man is hard to forget. I look at his shoes. He asked about mine because he wants new ones that let more air in and mine were designed for just that, though somehow they make my feet really hot and stinky. It’s kind of bad.

today I saw love in a moment of rush…

My funny friend that runs the organic market across the street busts through the door, moving about 5000 times faster than Old-Shoe who has now made it half way to the door. Guiness would have had a heart attack just thinking about moving that fast. He’s in a rush looking for a plastic container for one of his customers. While waiting we catch eyes and say what’s up with a generous head nod, actually his is more like a body-nod. Organico goes over to Old-shoe and tilts his hat sideways endearingly, like a son to a father who doesn’t know that his father, in his day, was the coolest cat on the block.

today I saw love in a door…

Organico gets his container, but his facial expression doesn’t change, he’s been smiling this whole time. I’ve never seen him not smile. He literally starts running toward the door, leaving Old-Shoe in his dust, who is now chatting with someone, maybe about their shoes. As Organico busts through the door in his smiley rush, he takes his right foot and releases the door stop propping it open. Not because it’s hot in the burrito shop, or because he has an addiction to propping open doors. Not because he’s coming back in with his hands full or because he wants the smell to ooze into his store.

Because he loves. In his explosive state of movement he decided to do prop open the door for a slow old man. Old-Shoe was too busy doing shoe research to even notice. Organico didn’t look back once. And I sat in a state of habanero amazement that someone could simply pay that much attention to love in such a state of jumping bean bliss.

Love exists always. Feed it attention and it becomes alive. It spreads and it doesn’t ask for anything in return, or even to be noticed. It will be felt, by someone. And maybe they will write about it. Or the next time they open a door they will look behind them. And maybe the next time they are in a rush or a state of relentless stress, they will pay attention to the love that lights the way and opens doors.