A Kiss on My Cheek

I am standing at the bus stop waiting for line 1 to make my connection in time for my meeting. My car is broken, so I hold strong to the familiar and useful public transportation system to get me where I need to go. I remember this is just the season of things, and appreciate the chance to be outside. This is the only time I intend to be out in the world today, and am grateful I am choosing to catch the bus than find a car to use.

It’s snowing. Whiteness falls all around me while droplets from snow melting on tree branches above me drip on my coat. The thud as the water droplets hit me then run down my coat coincides with the wet sound of tires rolling by on the street in front of me. It’s a constant slush from tire to cement in both directions of my ears. I close my eyes and listen. I feel snow collect in my eye lashes and listen to the sounds of the busy street. This is me out in the world.

The bus comes and I step on in usual form with I.D. ready and change to feed the meter. I ask for a transfer and turn to sit down. I am met with a casually crowded bus full of others like me bundled, slightly chilled, and appreciating the warmth of the #1. The colors of coats and hats and scarves all blend into one another; themes of black, brown, and dark blues usher me to my seat. I am grateful to see a bright lime green coat in the mix. The snow has gone from white to melted and is running down my coat. I sit down and begin to blend in with the wetness dripping off hats and scarves and coats around me.

I am only riding down as far as #25 to transfer to my destination, but while on this short ride I am met with more black, brown, and blue bundles joining us and leaving. Occasionally, someone would come in with a khaki this or red that. The woman in lime green leaves the bus at the shopping center as I continue onward. It’s silent around me and I am completely internal with myself. Today, I feel like I am with an old friend who has been with me throughout my existence. I realize that old friend is me and for the moment I feel in love with myself. It’s pure and true and comes from an honest caring place. This is me loving me.

I get off at my connection and walk a block up to the bus stop. The sounds of the cars singing chorus with the wet cement greets me as I cross the street median rebelliously NOT at the cross walk. I think about a letter I read earlier today. I wrote the letter to myself, it was to me and by me. I wrote it a moment before school started and kept it until this in-between time I have right now. The note met me with grace and kindness and told me that I knew me and knew where I would be at right now. The note reminded me of the goals I had for myself and that I probably would have both the easy way to these goals in my head and the challenging way. The note I sent myself reminded me the easy way wasn't what I wanted from life, even if I could take it.

I think of this note as I wait at bus stop #2 for the #25. The snow is wet and the street ushers in a chilly breeze, so I crowd myself into a door way of the sushi restaurant between a huge pot of flowers and the door. I feel like I got a love letter today and it is from me. I feel seen and heard, and like I know myself. I also feel like what I don't know, I will learn in due time and am excited at the chance. This is me getting to know me.

Bus #25 comes sliding to the stop and I get on using my transfer. Though I feel not warm but not cold either in my bundled existence outside, my face is red and I welcome the warmth of the back of the bus. I let the heat from the engine I am sitting next to kiss my cheek with its warmth. I like cheeks and suddenly look at the cheeks of everyone around me. I wonder what it would be like if we greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek. Who would feel it violated their space, who would welcome the expression, and which side would I be on?

I watch as the snow grows heavier outside as snowmen and shoveled drives fly past my view. I wrote myself a letter and in that letter I knew me and knew exactly what I needed to hear. I am very good at seeing other people - Supporting, comforting when I want to, listening, the list goes on. I like to do it. It’s a part of me. The letter reminded me that I see me too. It’s nice to support and comfort and to know I am actually listening to myself when my head rambles on. I get off the bus and go to my meeting...I tell the person that I am meeting with about the letter. I go home in more snow and noisy wetness. This is me with me in the world today.