Musings On A Saturday

“The purpose” is an elusive concept to capture in words or thought or even philosophy. Right after inquiring “what is the meaning of life” follows the second question”what is my life’s purpose”.

And answering “I dunno” doesn’t always feel so inspirational.

I was walking down the sidewalk this week towards work when I passed this chick who looked at that ephemeral age between 15 and 25. I didn’t pay her much attention in approach, but at the 7 pace mark, she removed her headphones, met my eyes, and began speaking.

Not that I got a word of it

I took my headphones out. “Sorry, what did you say?” I asked, eyes drawn down to her slightly anxious face and fastening onto her shiny silver braces. Maybe she is lost.

She proceeded to lay down her words at an impressive rate of speed, her lips accelerating faster and faster, the braces on her teeth appearing and disappearing within milliseconds like flickering Morse code. The words jumbled and nonsensical flowed into my ears in choppy bits of comprehension.

“Excuse me …. sorry to bother you … Was wondering … if you wouldn’t mind .. .(something, something) … Bible study …. completely free…. no money or anything… if you’re interested -“

It took me a few seconds to catch on that I was in the presence of a baby witness bird.

Baby witness birds (BWBs) are young awkward witnesses who have not yet learned the smooth, suave methods of their elder, fervent brethren. BWBs are moved to strike out into the world to witness in their peculiar, anxiety-ridden, way. And by witness, I mean church converting, soul seeking, hell fearing witnesses, not necessarily Jehovah witnesses mind you, just folks of any denomination with the burning urge to seize souls.

And mine is closed for search and seizure.


I wonder about the soul. About whether we as human beings really have a true match out there or if some of us never couple, triad, or quad up. If some of us are meant to be alone.

But I have hope due to the most… strange circumstance I encountered recently.

I made a new friend. And we fit like two peas in a pod. I mean, we really jive, and we have a lot in common, yet enough difference to be independent uniquely fun people.

And the only thing that hits me sometimes, when I look at them is… why?

Why did this person ask me to hang out with them? Why did they let me in?

Is that a stupid question to ask?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t say this out of self-deprecation. But I am surprised. After years of being alone, of being “left behind”, they come out of no where and… let me in.

I can’t fathom it.

But it gives me hope. If I can make a friend this kind, giving, caring and open, then maybe I can find my equal(es).

Oh, I didn’t tell you? I’m all for non-traditional relationships. In fact, if it doesn’t get crazy messy, I could see myself in a triad. Nope, still not mormon

But I digress.

I enjoy their company. We could hang out every day, but I am not even used to it. There is so much that folks take foregranted that is new and strange to me.

But I am the author and finisher, I can make my life something new and different. I can shape it differently. I can be someone to be proud of.

And I am proud of myself. For changing, for growing, for becoming a beautiful person inside and out. For forgiving myself and all my shortcomings. For letting go of perfection. For hanging on to the important things in life.

For being myself. Period.

I think I will change my name, after all.

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