It is a new habit which we will most likely continue in this slowly emerging, post-pandemic, post-lockdown reality. So, yes, late yesterday afternoon, after a busy morning and early afternoon, I turned to my companion and said: "Let's go for a sit-down."
We grabbed a couple cold kombuchas at our local coffeeshop and headed to the lakefront. There are a few pretty private benches in our hood, and sometimes we do go for a private sit-down, but there are also some very public benches too, and sometimes we decide a public sit-down is just the thing.
We have one favorite bench, it's facing Lake Michigan, there are trees, a little brown slatted-fence, a public beach, and the vast body of water that is always in motion, always changing, and always breathtakingly beautiful. The horizon is wide and deep. A symphony of water, clouds, sky, sunshine. Some days super-calm, some days a roiling, boiling, hurly-burly of churning thunder.
If you sit in one place long enough the world will come to you. Some days that is how it feels. Yesterday was that kind of day. Sitting on that bench we were in a vortex of positive energy, a strange attractor for all kinds of attention. It was a sunny & warm day and 100's of our fellow human beings were out and about, walking, biking, running, beaching.
We sat on that bench. We owned it. And folks kept passing by smiling, saying hello, nodding their heads. It was like everyone knew us, and well, since we are on the lakefront every day, it's not impossible. A man stopped by and chatted with us for a bit, and it turns out my companion may have found a new client for some graphic arts projects. Funny. Sitting on bench. It felt we were on a stage in the midst of a dramatic performance. The world came to us. And what was the performance? Two Souls on a Bench.
The name Descartes came up in a conversation with a passerby. Rene Descartes. Not your usual daily reference. Although, in our wealthy, educated, progressive, blue-bubble, not totally surprising that one of the founders of modern philosophy would come up. I nodded. Yes, I knew the name, the man. "I think, therefore I am."
We finished our drinks. Watched the waves rolling in, and then headed home. Later, reading in bed, on page 365 of the Picador edition of Robert Bolano's "Savage Detectives," I came across these sentences:
"And while I was at it, I'll tell you, I even thought about that bastard Descartes. Just to give you some idea. Descartes."
Hmmm. What is the Universe saying to me? Let's just chalk it up to a strange coincidence. A little synchronicity. Maybe I need to go back to that bench and think about it all.
