Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Magical, Karmalized Skyscraper
WOW! I cannot believe I haven't written a post since December 16th. Yikes. My day job has left me little time for things my soul loves, like this blog. Not a good sign. My life is out of balance. Hmmm ... note to self >> Change this and even out those scales Libra lady. <<
I would love to say that as the self proclaimed "Karmalized Girl" I always have fantabulous days, but of course, I'd be lying and that's not Karmalized, now is it? A few weeks ago, I was going to my 6 month dental check up at Dr. Dorfman's and having a below average kind of day. I'd left work early to get my teeth cleaned ... whooo hooo. The last time I went to my dentist, I had a very Karmalized experience, random I know. Well ... you won't believe what happened this time.
As I'm waiting for the elevator to arrive on the bottom floor of a giant skyscraper in Century City, an elderly man, immaculately dressed, shuffles into the lobby and waits beside me. He is leaning heavily on a walker, his gnarled knuckles white from intensely gripping the handles. When the elevator arrives, I hold the door as he slowly makes his way inside and a Russian lady, dripping with diamonds and makeup, climbs aboard as well. She gets out first and when she does, the well aged man turns to me and grins, "Oh, I thought she was with you. Maybe your Mother?" "Nope," I reply, "But she sure had a lot of jewelry on didn't she?" He chuckles as we ride up and up.
On the 16th floor the door opens and it turns out we are both getting off. I ask him where he is heading, knowing he'll need a wee bit of help. We walk to the left and I open the office door for him and say "see ya later," even though I know I probably won't. That simple interaction warms up my less than cheery heart. I walk down the hall to my dentist, happier about my day.
An hour or so later I emerge, teeth cleaner, mouth tasting like that awful gritty polish they use. I can't believe it when I see the old man come out of his doctors at the exact same time. "Boy, am I glad to see you," he says. And I feel so thankful I can help him back down the elevator just as I'd helped him up. We get in and as the door closes, he begins struggling to open a piece of chocolate wrapped in shiny red foil and shaped like lips. I watch, wanting to help him without offending him. He catches me eying the candy and quips "Did you get one of these at your doctor?" "I definitely didn't. You're lucky," I say. "Wanna split it?" He offers. "I'd love to," I chime as he hands me the chocolate so my younger, more able hands can tear away the foil. I give him half as the elevator doors open. We get out together and head out separate ways, smiling with our mouths full of melting chocolate.
It was instantly clear the universe had put me there, at that exact moment, to assist this gentle old soul. He must have crossed my path to remind me that tiny moments can make an ordinary day extraordinary, if we are open enough to see life's simplest offerings are often the most fulfilling.