So I’m walking in circles on Wednesday, along Isabella, down Church, along G-something and back up to Isabella. I’ve got time before the talk I’m set to give that evening so I’m burning off a few nerves and feeling a little self-satisfied that it all came together in the end so the first time around the block I’m enjoying being back in Toronto, if only for a few hours. It feels a bit like I’m on a day pass.
The next time around I’m in my own little world so it’s hard to say exactly how many times I went around the block after that. It was a blue sky, chilly after a surprise rain shower (surprise to me, anyway). So there I am, oblivious to everything. I’ve got my “avoid moving objects” radar on, and my “turn right at the corner” auto pilot is set and seems to be functioning, so I can do all this while watching my own inner movies.
Then, quite suddenly, a man leans into my bubble, and I come away thinking, ok, now I am in the present! The guy is older, stooped, possibly drunk though it is hard to say – it all happened so fast. And the experience got me wondering, are we allowed to live in our own little bubble? How rude is it to walk down the street, oblivious to everyone, thinking only of ourselves? Not that I do it on purpose – who does? – but maybe a habit of greeting people would go a long way to helping us all to feel like we’re really here.
There I am in my bubble, vaguely thinking about my talk, practicing it in my head, hoping it goes well, when the guy leans in, and in a well-worn voice says “Nice tits anyway!”
I jump out of my skin at the intrusion and all I can say in return is “You scared me!” and he repeats, “Nice tits anyway!”
And I go away thinking that maybe we never really are in our own little world…