This is the comedy-drama of my life… small intuitive bursts mixed with an overactive imagination make a short trip to the local grocery store over flow with an abundance of character, color, and compassion.

Wednesday night blue. Time opened up. Things were different for a while. I wandered. Drove for a bit. Parked and sat in the lot with the window down, and the cold October air sweeping in. It seemed to mix with my soul, and when it flowed out the passenger side, I think part of me went with it.

No worries. No hurry in my step. I decided to stop by the local grocery store. All too open was my mind as my gaze found other souls scurrying around in their daily drama.

There was a slight small-headed man, Stanley, standing in the frozen food isle - reaching up anxiously for some item or another. He was working, probably putting something away - all I noticed was his disproportionately small head, and I felt an immediate pang of guilt for noticing, and then felt this deep gut instinct well up within - this voice coming up and saying “I don’t want to be small”. I tried to shut it up so I could carry on with my little journey. I said a small prayer for my small-headed friend, and asked my God for forgiveness, and went on my way.

Then my eyes met those of a woman dressed as if for an interview. Somehow, at 7:00 PM, her suit was still nicely pressed. She had the look of a mother trying to do it all… and was now finding ingredients for a late evening meal for hungry teen-agers waiting at home.

Her husband travels during the week. She’s proving to herself - and him as well - that she is worth as much as him in the eyes of the world.

Her exhaustion and fatigue are well disguised this evening, though the wear and tear on her core health is slowly building up. I saw it. I saw her veins weakening. I saw toxins in her liver. Her eyes were oh so slightly sunken in. She’s a beautiful woman. Competent. Intelligent. But her craving for recognition is drowning out her own inner voice.

As I turned the corner, I saw the young mother of a 4 year old boy. His name is Matthew. She was a breath of fresh air - overflowing with optimism. It is not grounded in anything other than her own pure enthusiasm for life. She was excitedly looking for items to include in a meal that she was preparing for daddy. Matthew was equally happy and excited. These two wondrous people had only one worry tonight - could they make daddy as happy as he makes them?

I had only a moment’s sadness when I looked deeper into their lives to see that daddy is working so hard to keep this day dream afloat that he will never see just how much love these two pour into their family life. It is not that he does not care. He cares greatly. But he is working too hard - putting too much out there into the world - the flow is all in one direction. When the circumstances match his version of the dream - he will be happy. When things are not matching, he will work harder until they do.

I wanted to go find him and shake him into wakefulness. But I know this is not the right path. They need to learn their lessons. No shortcuts.

As I entered the all important coffee isle - I nearly bumped into Joe and his son. Joe is 33, but looks to be about 40. His son is 12. Joe has been beat down so many times that he’s simply come to expect no different. It started when he was a child - and just never stopped. He’s a good enough guy at heart - but has never found anything that makes him exceptional.

Of course, I know different. I see it in his eyes. He is a painter, a creator. He can make things come into this world that you and I cannot imagine. Unfortunately, he has not yet imagined it either.

I am unable to see very far ahead for Joe. He lives in a bit of a cloud. I think this is spiritual dissonance. Or it could be that he may not be around long. If something happens in the near future to Joe - it will not be his health. He may be a bit beat up and worn out… but he is a much tougher man than he gives himself credit for. He confuses the lack of physical height and monetary wealth as signs of his lack of worth in this world. But his soul and body are working this out at a deep enough level that his core systems are all working just fine.

His son wishes his dad could see what he sees. His son loves his dad and has seen clearly for years his father’s true nature. Unfortunately - there has been not a single shred of validation - not from his father, not from his mother, and not from the outside world. As such, this young man is learning to doubt his gift of sight. This will take many years to undo. But he will. He is receiving unspoken gifts from both parents… after many difficult life lessons, these gifts will be there, ready to shine.

By this point in my trip, I am tiring. Too much information. Too difficult to not feel floods of emotions. Lifetimes of joy and pain - all put out in front of me.

I headed for the check out. Marianna rang up my items. She looked worried. Not sure why. Then a man came up behind me and tossed a single banana onto the conveyor belt! How odd. But banana man was in a hurry… a big hurry. How long had he been craving this banana? So I tell myself to just keep moving since my nerves are getting worn out.

The young lady bagging my groceries was a breath of fresh air. She is mentally retarded on the physical plain. Underneath, she is a beautiful soul. Very sweet and giving. And this is what comes through in her gaze. Despite her cerebral limitations, she looks me in the eye and asks if I would like help out to the car. I almost wanted to say yes - just to have this shining light next to me for a little while longer, but I smiled and said “no thank you”. She gleamed and instantly turned her attention to providing a bag for the single banana now coming down the conveyor belt.

I made it home OK. I sat in the quiet for a long time, letting these voices go their own way, and getting back onto my path.

May God bless us all on this amazing journey.