A Scene of Contrast

Hi, welcome back.

Writing a blog has its challenges.  The two challenges that seem to dog me the most are the two “T’s”… Time and Topic.

As you can tell from my last blog I have been doing some traveling and when I’m on the road my routine is totally out the window.  So the terrible “T’s” are more pronounced.

Because I continue to believe I am to write this blog the time issue is something I just address… I make the time.  We make time for what’s important.  This will be a blog topic some day.

The “Topic” challenge is ongoing.  I was uncomfortable starting the blog because I wondered if I had anything to write worth reading.  So I struggle with topics.

Most of the time I have to intently keep attuned to the world around me to come up with something worthwhile.  Then there are those times when a blog topic slaps you right in the face.  Today is one of those days.

A remarkable thing happened.

Yesterday I continued my travels for the week by taking a flight from Phoenix to Los Angeles.  While waiting at the gate to board it was the usual scene.  People were non-chalantly hovering close to the gate casually jockeying for position so when their seating zone was called they could jump.  It is sort of like runners crouched and set in position waiting for the gun to fire.

But then something caught my eye.  It was as if two foreign worlds were colliding.  Standing next to a pillar was a monk.  Not a Catholic monk but what I am not sure… Buddhist, Hindu, who knows?

It was like a movie when suddenly there is silence and everything gets fuzzy except the focal point at the center of the picture.

The monk was a thin dark skinned young man (late 20’s would be my guess).  He was slight of build and had a shaven head.   He was wearing a muted purple robe that although seemed to drape casually, one could tell it was wrapped with deliberation and purpose.  It was obvious that he was seasoned in his attire.   Sandals were on his feet and a brown canvas bag on a long strap hung from his shoulder completing the picture

He had a pleasant look to his face but avoided eye contact.  This will sound odd, but although he was there… he was not there.  It was like he was in a bubble that was suddenly removed from its place of origin and appeared in a foreign environment.

This scene of striking contrast was facinating to observe.  When his seating zone was called he slowly and calmly walked toward the ticket agent.  This alone was an obvious sharp contrast to the herd of cattle that stampeded as if popped with a cattle prod when the announcement sounded.

To my chagrin he boarded in zone three while I was relegated to the herd in zone four.  To my surprize and delight the monk was seated on the same row across the aisle at the window seat.  The striking contrast remained.

As the flight progressed I would try to discretely look over to see what he was doing.  He sat upright in a proper sort of way with his hands folded on his lap and looked forward.  I noticed that he held a small blue box in his hands.  It was a Tiffany blue color.

Up to now it was just an interesting story about a scene of striking contrast.  But it was at the airport in Los Angeles that the amazing incident occurred.

I will try to capture the scene and make sense of the significance of it on Monday.


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