The Thickness of Relationship
Is every castaway someone marooned on a deserted island? Is that the first image that comes to mind? One can be a castaway who has been cast away. This circumstance can be a precursor to depression if not addressed by finding and maintaining meaningful relationships with the Spirit and others stranded in this world. Both are essential to remaining whole. I found one such worldly straggler one morning on my routine walk. I did not recognize the potential for a lasting relationship, but looking back, I realized it built over time and a few shared miles.
It was 6:45 AM, and the sun was still below the horizon but started to tease a new day with its light. My walking route loops through the neighborhood and weaves around approximately a mile or so. One section I walk through is new construction; some houses are built and occupied, others are underway, and still other lots empty and unimproved. At a bend in the road, I came across a vacant lot, and the straggler stood along the curb. He stood silently and watched me approach.
As I came nearer, I spoke, “Good morning!”
He said nothing in return. He stood tall and never moved a muscle. He was square-shouldered and had a few visible scars that described a rough life in his past. Despite his imperfections, he stood solid and unmoving as though at attention. Oddly, he did not twitch at my greeting and remained silent, staring straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.
This lack of response is common in my experience. It happens when you make eye contact with a stranger and speak an unsolicited greeting. I’m not sure what happens in their brain, but they are unnerved by a stranger openly speaking to them. Is it an invasion of privacy? Is it a trick to slip into their space uninvited? Who knows. I did not judge; I kept walking.
As I walked away, I looked over my shoulder and left him with a parting comment to defuse any lingering angst my unsolicited greeting may have triggered, “Have a good one, brother!”
I had the option to judge his nonresponse as rudeness, but I had no clue what was going on in his world. What prompted him to stand on the curb alone and ignore me completely? No matter; I had most of my mile yet to go. I wondered about him, but only for a hundred yards or so. I know I had done my part and spoke a sincere greeting. What he chose to do with it was his business.
The next day, I repeated my walk and found him stretched out on his back in the dirt. As far as I could determine, he was still intact, so I stopped, helped him stand, and dusted him off. With sincere concern, I asked, “Are you okay?”
He stood where I helped him to a fully upright position and said nothing.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
Again nothing.
“Well, take good care, man!” I placed him on his spot on the curb and continued my walk and wondered if he was a castaway, too.
There was a chance he was deep in his own depression, and speaking was too much work to engage in readily. That is when I decided to name him since he showed no inclination to converse with me. I felt an attachment, strange though it may have been, whether he felt one in return or not, so he became my Wilson castaway that morning.
I continued to walk each morning and passed him by with a cheery “Good morning, Wilson!”
He never spoke but always remained vigilant in his accessibility in his occupied space. Strangely, it felt like there was a relationship building between us, and the only need I felt necessary was to continue my greetings each morning. Someday, he may respond. Or not.
Funny thing how relationships can blossom out of moments so innocent and unplanned. Funny thing how I felt a connection growing despite getting nothing in return. Except for my one-sided morning exchange, nothing came back to me that I could discern, but did there need to be any? It’s a fucking brick.
I fully expect that some morning in the future, Wilson will be gone from his bend in the road. I’ll wonder what happened to him. I wonder if he has blended in and become another brick in a wall somewhere. Regardless of his fate, I will still greet his memory, “Good morning, Wilson!”
I realize this little post is a cross between tongue-in-cheek and just plain ridiculous. Still, it is intended to show that it is possible to begin a relationship even when it is only one-way…even with an inanimate brick. Living with twisted logic or possibly pursuing things therapeutic in nature is brutal. Whatever you decide, remember that the possibilities of relationships must be offered before they can be nurtured into something sustainable and two-way.
A few weeks later, I noticed building materials had been delivered to the vacant lot where Wilson stood along the curb. I quickly decided, picked him up, and brought him home. He was different from all the new bricks delivered to his old curb. His future was a concern.
Considering his chips and dings, I doubted his peers or the builders would ever see him as acceptable to fulfill his purpose in life. No matter, I did not see the chips and dings. I only saw another castaway with the strength to stand and who needed a relationship that gave as much as it took.
Funny thing how our relationship became as thick…as a brick.
Sorry, I had to do that…
Peace to you all!
G.
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