Recently, I went on two different walks. The first alone, up a well worn trail, across a river swoosh, under oaks and pines. The second with my friend and her daughter along Cabrillo Boulevard, over the pier, to the Rainbow Arches and back.
Alone, I plodded along the trail. I drifted into melancholy, then to the present of navigating knobby roots and jagged little rocks, and briefly touched down into mindful nothingness. My solitary hike absorbed pleasantly and subtly into my day.
With company, along west beach, I bubbled over with a list of updates and laments, barely taking a breath, adrenaline and dopamine pumping through my veins like a matador. Side hopping and skipping as I scream talked, stimulated, intoxicated, and thrilled. It felt like something had happened after a long spell of non happenings. It marked the week.
I was not owed this meeting, this release. We cultivated it together, after years of friendship and care, all those tiny moments and adjustments you make over the years. The luxury of company.
Company is not a right, it is a privilege. It feels essential, but it is not guaranteed.
Prior to End of Days, company was so ubiquitous it felt perennial, an auto deposit you just receive for your general humanity. Sometimes ritualistic; loud happy hours with a dry house white and an exotically fried vegetable or Sunday dinner, meatballs served family style.
Then it was part obligation, a social spiritual necessity. Someone is arriving, someone is leaving. We need to catch up, we need to get blasted, we need to talk. Modern human life choices bred their tiny echos of contact.
And sometimes, because of time, we were called to mark the moment by experiencing it together. The baby turned 30, tragedy struck, speeches were made, witnessed, and surreptitiously recorded by me.
Company was omnipresent. Unflappable. Taking up space and time, creating a million little scenes of life, sucking out energy, filling our souls.
I turn over my stone of pandemic mandated Loneliness like a bright blue jewel. Dreaming of the absurd luxury of witnessing a public display of affection. The afternoon sun ripe on my jawline. Effective eavesdropping in a glowy restaurant. Finally comprehending the total decadence of just being alive.
It is painfully beautiful now as I do without.
Every interaction is a gift of love. A piece of lightning magic you earned by existing in this time and space. Time you devoted to your small corner of earth, to make it brighter and bigger.
The ultimate five star splendor of having you by my side, in this paradise. Don’t forget! I will not.
Maybe I did learn something on my hike.
Son in the City 