Written by Nick Andrea – I pulled in behind her aged frame, permed silver hair, and athletic shoes adorning steadily, striding feet. “That body was young once, but surely there is something inside that never ages,” appeared the thought on the mirror of an observing mind.
My thirty-two year old strides gradually carried me closer. As I approached, I increased my throttle to pass on the left, briefly slowing to exchange a glance and a smile.
“Fine day isn’t it?” I said.
“Oh gosh, it sure is. Beautiful,” she replied.
I gave another smile and motored off, energized in an uncommon way, as if a little nitrous had just been injected into the engine of my vintage 1982 walking machine. With long, effortless strides, this body virtually floated up the mile past the Grove Park. Didn’t stop me from thinking, though. When you’re young, see, you just can’t get away from the feeling that you’re missing something, inside.
On I plodded. “So, what should my next move in life be? I don’t think they understand what I have to offer. Is it coaching or is it writing or is it playing music? Hey, who is the one thinking these thoughts? Ooooh those multi-colored running shoes that guy was wearing, those things cost like $125! Some people have way too much money. Oh yeah? You’ll be eating those words, one day.” And on, and on, and on, went the endless drone of questions, judgments, corrections.
The shadows of leaves dancing on the sidewalk caught my eye, beautiful, like fingers of God trying to pull me out of my ego spell. I looked but didn’t really see, like an ancient Israelite who saw Jesus but just passed him by. I was too busy for beauty.
At some point I turned around to head back to the workplace, when something caught my eye, a figure coming towards me. I realized it was the same woman I met before.
“Well, hello again,” I said, cheerily.
“Hello! Boy, you just passed me and were up the hill and gone,” she replied.
“Yeah, I got this sudden boost of energy after meeting you. And, besides, I’m sure it’s easier for me to walk that fast than for you.”
“Haha well yes. I’m eighty-nine, still walking two miles every day, though.”
“Wow! And I see you’ve got your athletic sneaks on.”
“Look, even though this body may age, you’re only as young as you want to be up here,” she said, pointing to her head.
“Wow. That’s inspiring. My name is Nick.”
“Bonnie Freeman.”
“Nice to meet you, Bonnie. Have a wonderful day.”
“You, too.”
Another smile, a handshake, and we parted ways, taking the next steps on our individual journeys of life and death. But now, my mind was silent. I slowed my pace. I saw shadows of leaves, dancing on the sidewalk.
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Nicholas Andrea is a poet, story writer, and musician living in Asheville, NC. He believes that the key to happiness is adopting the wondering, innocent mind of a child. His work can be found at nicholasandrea.com.
