Each Thursday, join me for my once a week practice, Through the Glass Backwards. As I commute into work, I take the light rail downtown. Even though I tend to get motion sick easily, I usually end up facing backwards, watching as the city slips by. These vignettes will be a 200 word glimpse of things I see as the world outside me lives its life, and I am fortunate enough to see.
I pass the five story mixed use apartment building every morning. It is right next to the station two stops before I get off. As we pull in, I look at the pairs of chairs on the patio balconies. The corner apartments have wide windows looking out to the highway. At first thought, I don’t think that I would like that. The rushing, the sounds, the speed that would surround engulf my vision while doing my dishes. But, I wonder if being steady still, with my hands to the elbows in sudsy warm water, feeling the silk of my dishes becoming clean, would help me appreciate stillness, as I see the speed outside my window.
We’re stopped here for a moment, the announcement about transfer of trains and I continue to look at the patios. There is one with color faded paper thin Tibetan prayer flags. Prayers on the wind to whomever needs them. As we begin to move again, around the corner, a man and woman, sit in their own balcony’s pair of chairs, wearing sweatpants and smoking. I see the smoke rising. I see their mouths moving.
I wonder if they are speaking prayers for whomever needs them.