Snapshots: A Day In The Park

the setting: san francisco, california.  it's august and unusually bright and warm.

scene 1: golden gate park.  it's morning and there are several rows of people performing tai chi.  most of them are adult asians though there are also a couple of aging hippies and a 16-year old boy.

relax. breathe.  let your arms float.

as he took his initial stance, he heard the words in his mind, but it wasn't his voice or that of his tai chi master that he heard.

head up.  part the wild horse's mane to the left.  exhale.

his sister's voice had set the tone.  he felt the coarse hair of the mane in his fingers, his sister's warm breath against his ear.  as he moved into the next form, he transcended his normal plane of awareness to a place that was both familiar and unkown to him.  his body continued to flow from one form to the next.

grasping the swallow's tail.  single whip.  waving hands like clouds.

his consciousness, though, was elsewhere.  it wasn't san francisco.  it wasn't a place at all.  his senses were void.   he saw nothing, he smelled nothing, he felt nothing.  his sister's voice was gone.  but she was there.  there was no evidence of her, but she was there.  he knew it.  twins had that connection.  she was part of his world, and she was still with him. 


scene 2:  golden gate park.  it's afternoon and an old man is playing chess against a 16-year old boy.

the boy opened by pushing queen's pawn forward two spaces.  "rabbi ori, i was performing tai chi in the park this morning and...and i think i may have reached enlightenment."

the old rabbi raised a bushy grey eyebrow at his opponent, then moved his knight out into the field of play.

"did you, now?  and what makes you think that, my young friend?

the boy paused.  he was looking at the board, but his mind was on his experience that morning.  when he had ended his forms, he was back in the normal, waking world.  the presence of his twin sister had lingered, though.  he found himself looking around to see if she was watching him.  she wasn't there, though.  nobody was. 

he slid another pawn forward and said, "i was doing my forms, but it felt like my body was doing the movements on its own while my mind was...somewhere else.  i don't know where.  it was empty.  nothingness, really, except for the feeling that my...that somebody i haven't see in a long time was there, and she was safe.  i've never felt anything like that before.  it was real, though.  i swear it."

the rabbi nodded noncommittally, and pushed one of his pawns out into the fray, opening up a bishop and his queen.  "in the eastern philosophies, reaching a state of enlightenment brings an end to suffering and an understanding of the complexities of the universe, no?"

the boy shrugged, and captured a pawn.  "something like that, yeah." 

the moves on the board seem to match the flow of the conversation: probing, unsure, deflecting, penetrating.

"so what mysteries did your enlightened mind unlock?"

"i don't know.  i mean, i didn't solve any mysteries.  i just...i just felt that this person was alive and safe, even though i have no real way of knowing."

"we've played many a game of chess, my young friend, and i've watched you here in the park.  may i make an observation?  yes?"

the boy nodded.

"you are lost.  you exist in this world, but you are not part of it.  the eastern philosophies, you are drawn to them because they would have you to turn away from the world and look inside yourself for answers.  for them, the world is nothing but pain and suffering.  it is something to ascend from, yes?"

another nod.

"for us jews, that is unthinkable.  we live in our world.  family and tradition, they are where we look for answers.  the torah and talmud give us mitzvot--the commandments of god--to help us find our way in the world and make it a better place.  we don't want to ascend from this world; we want to make this a better world, you see?"

another nod, but accompanied by a frown.  "so, i didn't reach enlightenment?"

the old rabbi tilted his head to the side in a half-shrug.  "meh, who knows?  but we jews, we have a word called kavannah.  do you know this word?  no?  well, it is a kind of enlightenment.  it means directing one's heart toward heaven.  oftentimes, we jews just go through the motions with our laws and prayers and rituals, doing them because we're supposed to, because we always have.  sometimes, though, the rituals awaken sudden clarity inside of us and click!  we understand.  in that very moment, it all comes together.  we feel the connection that we all have to god, and to each other, and to this world.  that is kavannah.  it's very zen, no?"

the boy looked impressed.  "that's cool."

the old rabbi smiled.  "i'm glad you think so, my young friend.  now, maybe you experienced kavannah; maybe you did not.  who knows?  but my advice is to remember that connection you felt, the connection to that other person whom you loved, your connection to this world."

the boy nodded.  "is that all, rabbi?"

"no, my young friend.  you must also remember not to expose your king.  checkmate."

scene 3:  golden gate park.  it's evening and a woman is sitting on a plaid blanket, eating a picnic dinner with an old shaggy dog and a 16-year old boy.

"danny, these sandwiches are delicious.  where did you get them?"

"a jewish deli that rabbi ori told me about," the boy told her as he handed her a bottle of coke.  "he said it's the best pastrami he's ever had."

"it's certainly the best i've ever had," the woman said.  "i'm glad you thought to bring a bowl of yorick's regular food for him, though.  i don't think the pastrami would be good for him and, besides, i don't want to share."

the boy said nothing, but reached over and rubbed the old dog's head affectionately.  his aunt watched him, her eyes sad.

"you're remembering them, aren't you?"

he nodded.  "it was six years ago today, you know."

"i know."

"annie's still alive."

"what?!"  she wasn't prepared to hear that.  "how do you know?"

"i don't know.  i mean, i know it, but i don't know how i know it.  i mean--"  he took her hand.  "aunt lucy, you've heard how twins have a special connection?  they can speak their own language, finish each others thoughts?"

she smiled.  "yes.  your mother and i used to marvel at how you and annie used to talk gibberish to each other as toddlers.  we couldn't understand a word you'd say, but you understood each other perfectly."

"we always had our own language.  and we knew things about each other.  like, i knew if she was sick, and she knew if i was lying about something, or hiding something.  i knew if she had a bad dream, even when she was in the other room."

the woman looked closely at his face.  "and you think you felt something today?"

the boy started petting the dog again.  "yes.  no.  i mean, i realized something today.  that connection is still there.  it was always there.  i just never paid attention to it.  i guess...i guess it hurt too much.  but  today at tai chi, i found it again.  if the connection is still there, then she's still alive.  she's okay, aunt lucy.  i know it.  i know it."

the woman pulled him close.  "i hope so, honey.  i hope so."

the shaggy dog stood up and walked over to then and fell in between them, as if to join their embrace.  the woman and boy laughed and each extended a hand out to rub against the dog's black & white coat, prompting a happy tail-thumping against the plaid blanket.