Of Mind and Soul
Before I begin on the story, there are several things I would like to note:
1. I have almost daily experiences which would be termed psychic by most. Most are subtle and primarily fall within empathic and intuitive categories.
2. For some strange reason, the number 23 seems somehow to have some
significance in my life. It comes up constantly and seems to surround me.
I could give many many examples, but will refrain for brevity's sake. I do
feel it has something to do with my death or a spiritual rebirth or
awakening of sorts.
3. Though I have these so called "insights" as stated in note #1, I remain quite
skeptical and open minded to alternate explanations. My rationale for this
seeming "non-commitment" approach is due to my one commitment to
always search for ultimate truth which is different from perspective truth.
4. I find myself to be practically fearless in most regards. However, this does
not make me reckless or oblivious to the possibilities of danger. I suppose
you could say I live by faith. Faith in the gentle voice of the spirit which
whispers "all is as it should be". Although fearless, I am very cautious.
So now on to the story.
It was Friday night when I started work. I usually don't work on Friday or Saturday nights, but some schedule changes took place and there I was. It started out sort of lousy because I came in to find out that my co-worker which I was to work with had domestic disputes with her husband and would not be returning to work after being on maternity leave. So, I was working solo then tonight. No big deal really. I was more worried about how this would effect my future days off.
So time went on and I was slowly but surely getting the store in the shape I like having it in when in walked a fellow with a blue ball cap and narrow eyes. I could tell he'd been drinking. My initial sense of him had me thinking of the white supremicist type, like the Aryan nation, as images of this went through my mind. He then spoke his first words to me, asking for a pack of cigarettes. About halfway through the transaction of selling him his pack of Marlboro's he looked at me and said "Are you Gay?", squinting his already narrow eyes in an expression of discernment. I met his gaze directly, searching his eyes and into his soul for signs of possible trouble. Then after a brief pause I said "As a matter of fact I am.", while still feeling that slight residual societal influence of discomfort about the topic. "I KNEW IT!" He said, and his alertness seemed to peak. "DAMN! How can two men even begin to have sex... Yadda Yadda Yadda", he began. Then a funny thing happened to me. I felt suddenly at ease and relaxed. I felt strangely and totally comfortable, and not even the slightest annoyance toward him. I looked at him and said compassionately in response to his questions, "I don't know, those are questions that have been asked by many others before us. I only know that you asked me and I answered you with complete honesty and truth."
Interestingly enough, I became totally confident and comfortable with this discussion which I had always been a bit edgy about before. I guess it was the end of any residual feelings of shame or insecurities I still had. Even more interesting was the fact that I began to see a sort of duality in the fellow. I suddenly saw within him two opposing characteristics. His obvious distaste for the thoughts of what I represented to him as a gay man and an emerging sense of wanting to understand something he was uncomfortable with. Our discussion continued. Him jumping from moments of anxiety ridden discomfort to sincere attempts to understand. He kept saying, "So you're really gay!" In apparent disbelief. He grabbed a Low Rider magazine and showed me various bikini clad ladies. I said, "They are quite attractive, but I feel no physical attraction toward them." All the while, never getting defensive and never attacking his views. He walked in and out of the store several times, then came back in and looked at me intently as if searching. I gave him respect despite our differences. He went into his difficulties of his sister being gay and having a girlfriend. Then, after about fifteen minutes of talking, he said to me, "You're a pretty good guy." He reached out to shake my hand. I took it gladly saying, "That's what it's all about. Being a decent human being."
I could still see the moments of opposition play out in the etchings of his face and recognized through his voice, body language and his very being, the possibility of violence. But along with his capacity for violent behavior I saw a deep and caring soul that had a great capacity to love as well. And though I was quite cautious of his behavior, I felt a deep sense of affinity and compassion for him. I could begin to see deeper issues in his life. His family life. Perhaps his parent's influence. The roll of his religious beliefs, his sister's homosexuality, his assosciations with other's with homophobic views. So much hitting him from his subconscious. And all in a state of intoxication. A veritable time bomb with a hair trigger. Well finally he went outside, got on his bike and began to ride off. But not without first shaking my hand again. Just before he rode off into the night he tapped on the glass and half mockingly, half jokingly blew me a kiss. I shook my head and laughed then he rode off. He will be back I thought to myself.
Soon afterwards, my friend Chris came in as usual and I told him about the incident. I told him that I dubbed the fellow "Brother Bob of the Aryan Nation" (Since I never got his name) I told Chris that he would probably be back. And sure enough after being gone for a while, Brother Bob came riding up. I told Chris, "There he is!" Strangely enough I felt mixed emotions on this. In my mind I was thinking, "Geez! I have work to do, I don't have time for this!" But there was that part of me which I dub spirit which knew compassion and warmth for this guy, in fact, Love for him. I found myself at a crossroads. Do I act in accordance with my mind, that cautious practical device, and just try to get rid of him so I could get my work done. Or do I follow the gentle flow of the spirit and build a bridge across the canyon of differences that he and I have, letting my responsibilities suffer? Well, I started by "playing by ear".
Bob (which is what I will refer to him as) came in and I said cheerfully, "Hey, you're back!" He gave me the look of discernment again and looked at Chris and said, "You're gay too right?" Chris said "No!", seemingly taken aback with Bob's bluntness. Soon Bob was back to showing the magazines, trying to get a response from me, saying things like "You are so F***ing GAY!", in a tone that seemed like he didn't approve of my responses. Several times when customers came in, he made sure to state to them, "I'm not gay!" He stepped outside and smoked a cigarette and as he was coming back in he gave me the Nazi zieg hiel salute thing several times, affirming my suspicions somewhat. He chatted with Chris a bit as I was trying to help customers and put my order away. Somewhere in there he stated that many women and gay men had been attracted to him, stating that was "cool", and that he didn't have a problem with it. He also shook my hand a time or two more. After a while, Chris left.
As I watched Bob interact between moments of asserting his "maleness" with customers and coming to terms with his desire to "understand it all", I felt the connection of spirit between us grow. There was no doubt of it now, I felt the kind of love for him that God intended all of mankind to share. I could see him in the light of truth. All the beauty that his (like everyone's) spirit contain and all the demons of the mind and ego. I learned that he had a little girl, 4 years old, his sister and her girlfriends names and that he used to be a different person who would beat up people of color and gays. (More affirmation) He again, in a last moment of disapproval, said "How can you have sex with guys?" To which I simply stated, "Sex is not so much the issue. I haven't had sex with another person in over 12 years. It's all about love really." He stared at me as if astonished.
I learned that he was very unhappy with his life. He was kicked out of his house and had no where to go. Probably just for the night though. I watched as his life and spirit opened up to me and though I was still cautious of the possible danger within him, I found myself loving him regardless with the purity of godly love. He felt it as well, though not completely sure of how to express it. He even asked me to give him a hug, which I did cautiously but sincerely. There was very little return of warmth from him, but no sense of loathing either. He asked me if I could do him a favor and after several attempts he finally asked me to put him up. His wording had hints of something more, but I trusted my mind on this one and exerted extreme caution, emphatically telling him sorry, but I wouldn't be able to manage it. He was quite respectful and said he understood. I was relieved he didn't push it. He told me that if anyone ever gave me trouble that he would take care of them.
Soon afterwards, another customer (Cindy) came in. He went outside for another smoke and I told her he was a bit drunk and a bit of what went on. She, like most, was concerned for my safety and asked if I wanted her to call the cops after she left. (Having written it on paper since Bob was back inside.) Suddenly thinking how I needed to get my work done, and seeing him still jumping between violence and compassion, I told her yes. After she left and before the police arrived Bob's lip piercing stud fell out. He came over and handed it to me then pulled his lip out and asked me to put it back in. So here I am, fingers in his mouth, putting in a piercing. It fell out again and after a bit of difficulty on the second try, I got it in again. Funny thing is I looked at him while doing it and what I saw was something I will forever treasure. In that moment he gave me his trust. And in return I gave him mine. Not in word, but in that spiritual unspoken connection.
I felt kind of bad when the police came and I had them ask him to leave. I told them that he was a good guy and to be nice to him. I told the guys (cops) that I didn't have any more time to babysit. I was just finishing helping a customer as he walked out the door. I felt a bit guilty, as if I betrayed a friend as I said goodbye. He seemed cool though and didn't seem to harbor any ill will toward me. As if he understood. And then watching him go, I reached for a safe drop envelope for the twenty dollar bill the customer gave me. And as I glanced at it I smiled....It was envelope #23.
As for Bob. Well, I still don't know his real name. I can't even be sure he will remember this early morning. As he rode off on his bike I inwardly thanked him for the lesson and the precious gift he had given me. I put a rubber band around my wrist to encourage my memory of the incident (a habit I recently started) and at 4:48 a.m. the darn thing snapped. Stinging my wrist and breaking in the process. I wonder if it means anything. Time will tell I guess. Oh, by the way. I made sure to write this today. I didn't want to wait till tomorrow like I usually do. That day is the 23rd, and that would be too weird!