If I'm walking to work at the appropriate time, I always pass the same man heading down the street. His face is slack and bespectacled; his eyes look worn, sad and empty. I could describe him further, but the things I would say have led me to wonder: How would I feel to be described in that way? To have my shape be the first thing people say to indicate who I am?
So I pass him and wonder where he's coming from and where he's going to. Today he was wearing a knit hat and jacket, which made me realize it had been a long time since I saw him last. He has the look of someone struggling through an unpleasant or meaningless life, who is only present enough anymore to drag himself through it every day. Like he's taking care of an ailing mother or wife who does nothing but Ask and Berate and Ask Some More. In fact, the sadness in his eyes seems to be more the echo of sadness, given way now to emptiness and distant memory.
I hope I'm wrong.
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2 comments:
Smile at him when you can! Tho I'm sure you already do.
There's a chance that he could be none of the things you assume. He could be quite content with life. Happy, even. Everyone does not have an outwardly-animated appearance that effectively projects what they are feeling or thinking. Some people walk the street with glum faces, but are not glum at all. They might be thinking about the journey they are on, how their last step went so well and how their next step should avoid that steaming pile of doggy nonsense at all costs.
The only way to really know about people is to talk with them. Or if they happen to be incredibly shy, talk with someone who knows them incredibly well.
It's nice that you are concerned, though. And recognizing the problem of people who judge the outsides before knowing the insides of a person is an age-old issue and, quite possibly, a genetic component of most living things...humans especially. In that way we are a lot alike, but that doesn't make it right.
Perhaps a Slim Jim offered from the mitten-shrouded hand of a stranger would inspire a smile in this bespectacled man. Or maybe that gesture would be met with scorn, current terror level at periwinkle, afterall, along with a mouthful of very expensive porcelin veneers.
As it turns out, the last time he smiled a large june bug crashed into his teeth at high velocity. One cannot blame him for being extra cautious since then.
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