We all go about our daily business, heads down, steamrolling ahead.
Walking along a busy crowded city street at work rush hour of a morning, being jostled by bodies in a hurry to get to where they are going, eyes unseeing anything than their destination.
Sometimes we are buried so deep that we don't see the elderly lady struggling to cross at a crowded intersection. Or the young teen clumsily wheeling over-sized luggage up and down the steep set of stairs at Central Station.
But just one moment of beauty can cut through the apathy and set a spark in someone's eyes.
A busker, lone and sweet, sat at Central's opening arches played a simple strumming melody that stopped the woman in her tracks. She looked ahead at first, wondering why she had stopped, then down at her phone, ever present in her hand. Checking what had changed.
Her head turned, transfixed by the sound. Magic worked through her as she walked towards the musician, and stood for a few moments. Only a few moments, then turned on her heels back towards the arches, feeling sad she didn't have even a token coin in her purse to express her gratitude.
Fleeting moments, an unexpected gift. Joy. Insight. A window of opportunity to give thanks for things of beauty. A check that these moments of living in the present will never be given to us again.
She stopped again to examine something at her feet. Paused, then stooped to pick it up.
In her hand, the flash of mauve of an Australian five dollar bill.
She turned back towards the musician without hesitation and placed it in his guitar case. He looked up at her, their eyes met, and she breathed a word of gratitude: beautiful.
An unexpected gift for an unexpected gift.
Walking along a busy crowded city street at work rush hour of a morning, being jostled by bodies in a hurry to get to where they are going, eyes unseeing anything than their destination.
Sometimes we are buried so deep that we don't see the elderly lady struggling to cross at a crowded intersection. Or the young teen clumsily wheeling over-sized luggage up and down the steep set of stairs at Central Station.
But just one moment of beauty can cut through the apathy and set a spark in someone's eyes.
A busker, lone and sweet, sat at Central's opening arches played a simple strumming melody that stopped the woman in her tracks. She looked ahead at first, wondering why she had stopped, then down at her phone, ever present in her hand. Checking what had changed.
Her head turned, transfixed by the sound. Magic worked through her as she walked towards the musician, and stood for a few moments. Only a few moments, then turned on her heels back towards the arches, feeling sad she didn't have even a token coin in her purse to express her gratitude.
Fleeting moments, an unexpected gift. Joy. Insight. A window of opportunity to give thanks for things of beauty. A check that these moments of living in the present will never be given to us again.
She stopped again to examine something at her feet. Paused, then stooped to pick it up.
In her hand, the flash of mauve of an Australian five dollar bill.
She turned back towards the musician without hesitation and placed it in his guitar case. He looked up at her, their eyes met, and she breathed a word of gratitude: beautiful.
An unexpected gift for an unexpected gift.
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| Music feeds the soul |
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