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"And another thing!"
By Alobar
There is a relatively new homeless guy wandering around. Nutty as a fruitcake. He seems not to have any friends, or anyone who wants to chat with him. He yells and threatens the other homeless people until one of them chases him away. He attempts to hustle tourists. Sometimes he stands in front of a reader and starts yammering on about things none of us are interested in. He appears to be hyper angry and haunted every time I have seen him.
Friday night I was working alone. So when he passed by, he stopped to yammer at me. He held up his right index finger and started wagging it up and down at me while he began to spew forth. He began with "And another thing . . ." but I cut him off. I held up my right index finger and wagged it back at him, but side to side. Mirroring body language with differences is something Adler used to use, according to Margo Adler, his grand daughter.
I said to him, "No, that is not important. What you need to look at is not 'another thing" but the first thing."
He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and started to speak again. I cut him off. "No, not that either! That is just yet another thing. What is the very first thing, from which all other things have arisen?"
He stopped. He started to speak, then shook his head in negation. He paused for a minute. His jaw opened but he said nothing. His jittery bouncy eyeballs became still. With his mouth hanging open, he looked like the goldfish in the fish bowl I had as a child. He was perfectly quiet. His hand dropped to his side. Then his eyes got a far away look. His eyes reminded me of a very Zen dairy cow I once knew when she was chewing her cud. He looked very spaced out and contemplative.
I began my TM mantra which I have not used in decades. It just sprang to mind, just like my TM initiator said it would, back 30+ years ago. Slowly I began to verbalize the mantra while looking in to his far away eyes. His breathing became deep and rhythmic and he looked very relaxed. He began to repeat the mantra, stumbling the sound as he first said it, then gaining clarity and confidence as we spoke it in sync. I allowed my verbalization to fade to silence. He did likewise. He looked like he was looking at something far far away. He stood there perfectly still. I had never before seen him be still or quiet.
Several times he looked like he was about to begin speaking, but he stopped himself, shook his head in negation, and went back to silence.
Him standing in front of my setup was not good for business. So, after a while, I exhaled once in a blowing motion, while pursing my lips like I was blowing on a bug I wanted to leave my table. I have used that breath before to banish pesky street people. Sometimes it works, but not always. I find it works best if the street person does not notice me using it on him or her. He twitched once, then walked off, still silent with his far away gaze.
Later he got into a screaming match with the street musician who plays the hammer dulcimer under the balcony of the Pontalba apartments. When that was done he walked past me. He hesitated, looked at me, and muttered "The fist thing, the very first thing . . ." while he quieted down his anger, started breathing deeply, then walked off in silence.
I did not seem him tonight. I wonder if he is still seeking after the very first thing.
Prior to Friday night, I had never sought to impart the gist of Liber ThIShARB to anyone.
I wish him well in his quest for the very first thing.