The Gift of a Horn Honking

I was running on this cold, gray, February morning using music to boost me along like engines on either side of my ears. I have been running over the past year without any music, but these winter days are asking more of me to get out there. I do what is requested and kindly feed the need until I am inspired enough to take them off. Today, this need was replaced when I heard a car honk its horn from behind me. I turned to look as it passed and saw the driver giving me a thumbs up. A huge smile instantly found its place on my face and I felt a surge of happiness and gratitude for his acknowledgement. I thought about what kind of a person it takes to do that. The driver saw me running and didn't just carry on with his business. He must have had a quick succession of thoughts that went along the lines of, "wow, a woman running even in this freezing cold" and the recognition of the will, the effort, the discipline, or whatever it was he thinks that it takes. Some part of him was saying, "right on!" That is a person who can't be self-absorbed. His world is larger than his concerns, problems, or tasks. Though I don't know him from Adam (whoever that is), I feel confident to say he takes in what is around him, feels it, and shares his positive response. What a beautiful thing.  

What I was left with by this simple gesture of encouragement by a stranger was the reminder that we can all offer that magic to people everyday if we take the time to look around, to wonder, and to be grateful and inspired by what we see. I ask myself, why not offer support abundantly? Why be stingy with love? What is the fear that gets in the way of my ability to give out? And, what gets in the way of my being able to receive? There are gifts all day long. My train was on time. That was a gift. I had my usual breakfast with my kids at the town diner and though my daughter spilled orange juice all over herself, my co-parent dropped off clothes on the way to work so we wouldn't be late for school. That was a gift. The news reporter stopped me with a camera on the train platform to ask my opinion on possible fare hikes. Her smile in the rush of the moment of the train arriving and her trying to get my answer was left imprinted in my head. That connection was a gift. We can take in these moments and be filled and we can fill others. I'm taking in the reminder by the driver honking his horn. It was a bell of mindfulness to wake me up. I ran on and felt the rush of this life, of the train flying by, of the snow starting to fall, of the artist sharing his music in my headphones, of my heart beating, and of how greatly I can affect the beating of another's.