I take about the same route to the yoga studio every morning. There may be slight variations. But, honestly, there are not that many options from point A to point B in this pueblo pequeno. For awhile, I would pass a big guy walking 3 big dogs. The man is massive, “Paul Bunyon Big”. He could never be thin, or even lean. His dogs, like him, are enormous, mixes but of St Bernards, Shepherds and Labs. Paul Bunyon has a deep voice. When I pass, he smiles and says, “Buenos Dias”. The words come from the bottom of a volcano and almost echo. I smile back and say the same in a not so deep voice.
Something makes me smile when I see him. Perhaps his connection to his dogs as he walks them slowly, letting them sniff things, in a place where few people walk dogs. Perhaps its his confidence as he says a booming hello to the weird white woman with a hat and sunglasses passing on her bike in the sea of Mayans moving toward the school. I just love seeing him, saying hello, continuing on my way and wondering what his life is like.
I didn’t notice that I hadn’t seen him until this morning when I did. He threw a massive shadow on the morning sidewalk as he walked two dogs slowly past the mural at the school. I looked up and there he was. My mood lifted, my whole being smiled, I said a happy “buenos dias” loudly. He said it back. I kept riding. He kept walking.
I vowed to be that person for someone else.
Let’s try it.