Wednesday
Jan202010
"People helping other people" mindfulness: Spontaneous acts of caring in Gotham
Wednesday, January 20, 2010 at 11:22AM
By Irene Javors, LMHC
On one of those bitterly cold Sunday afternoons that NYC has endured over the last month, I decide to get a cup of something hot at the nearest coffee shop. I manage to find a window seat and set myself down to a serious half hour of people watching. People are rushing about, all trying to outrun the frigid temperatures. There are all sorts of get ups worn by these intrepid New York walkers, Parkas, long goats, layers and layers of sweaters and scarves, every variety of boot and shoe imaginable, gloves, mittens, and a few brave hat-less souls.
As I look out upon the "great parade." a relatively young man asks if he could take the empty seat at my table ( at 61 anyone under 40 appears virtually teenage to me). I nod a "yes." He proceeds to take out his cholesterol doused donut and a giant coffee. I envy his lack of dietary concerns. Both of us sit watching the passing throngs, enveloped in the warmth of the shop. A woman appears on the street loaded down with 2 shopping bags, a box, and a paper bag whose handle suddenly gives way. The contents of this container drops onto the sidewalk. Frantic, she tries to get the stuff back into the original bag and then put that into one of the other shopping bags. Nothing works. Finally, my tablemate said, "she needs some help." He throws on his coat and goes out to help her. He starts fumbling with all the bags and again one of the handles breaks. Miraculously, a woman comes running up with two large plastic bags and helps them re-package the whole mess! In the blink of an eye, this good Samaritan vanishes. The woman with the bags leaves and the guy comes back to my table. He winks and says, "all in a day's work."
I left the shop feeling warmed not only by the heat of the store but more importantly by the acts of helpfulness and generosity that I was a witness to. When I am feeling a bit down and I forget that there is more to the city than pushy people, rude comments, and just "too much" of everything, I coax myself to be mindful of the lady with the bags and all the people who set about helping her.
On one of those bitterly cold Sunday afternoons that NYC has endured over the last month, I decide to get a cup of something hot at the nearest coffee shop. I manage to find a window seat and set myself down to a serious half hour of people watching. People are rushing about, all trying to outrun the frigid temperatures. There are all sorts of get ups worn by these intrepid New York walkers, Parkas, long goats, layers and layers of sweaters and scarves, every variety of boot and shoe imaginable, gloves, mittens, and a few brave hat-less souls.
As I look out upon the "great parade." a relatively young man asks if he could take the empty seat at my table ( at 61 anyone under 40 appears virtually teenage to me). I nod a "yes." He proceeds to take out his cholesterol doused donut and a giant coffee. I envy his lack of dietary concerns. Both of us sit watching the passing throngs, enveloped in the warmth of the shop. A woman appears on the street loaded down with 2 shopping bags, a box, and a paper bag whose handle suddenly gives way. The contents of this container drops onto the sidewalk. Frantic, she tries to get the stuff back into the original bag and then put that into one of the other shopping bags. Nothing works. Finally, my tablemate said, "she needs some help." He throws on his coat and goes out to help her. He starts fumbling with all the bags and again one of the handles breaks. Miraculously, a woman comes running up with two large plastic bags and helps them re-package the whole mess! In the blink of an eye, this good Samaritan vanishes. The woman with the bags leaves and the guy comes back to my table. He winks and says, "all in a day's work."
I left the shop feeling warmed not only by the heat of the store but more importantly by the acts of helpfulness and generosity that I was a witness to. When I am feeling a bit down and I forget that there is more to the city than pushy people, rude comments, and just "too much" of everything, I coax myself to be mindful of the lady with the bags and all the people who set about helping her.
Reader Comments