A Minute

by Sistah Shoop


All good things come to be when it is time, neither a moment sooner nor a second later. Sistah Shoop could feel life experiences come into being.  None immediately ready to test out, but more like a fetus that requires some internal growth before it were to be born.  She had never had a birthing experience, but she thought that this must be something akin to it on a metaphysical level. 

She chucked the empty tomato sauce can off into the trash sinking it straight in.  She felt her visual acuity had come into being not that awfully long ago, in more ways than one.

Was it possible that the sight of one’s soul was tied up somehow to the sight from one’s eyes?  Shoop didn’t know for sure if the correlation held any deep meaning beyond her own thoughts, but it made dog-gone good sense to her somehow.  Of course it could be more that she disliked wearing her glasses and was just happy about getting the sauce can to the garbage without having to clean anything up.  Mentally she awarded herself 3 points.

Sistah Shoop’s first remembrance of this newly forming truth had come up several weeks back when she had struck up a conversation in an airport with a perfect stranger while they both waited on Delta flight 5240 departing for Atlanta, Georgia.  The woman had sat down next to her to wait for boarding to begin.  She was just a plain and simple looking woman who seemed happy to be going somewhere.

Shoop found her to be pleasant enough, but nothing else struck her as attractive or inviting.  They exchanged topical information at first, destinations and length of stay.  From there the conversation became more personal, more of a sharing, the listening “became” more of a feeling, and as all this took place Sistah Shoop looked into the woman’s eyes.  How often do we not look any further at a person?  She thought.  As she looked she noticed, or felt rather that she was looking at this woman from her heart.  What had been plain and simple now looked wonderful.  We are so much more than our external presentation, Shoop thought knowing that later on she would take her own narcissism to task.  She realized that shallowness would not lead you to the deep end of anything.  It could be the only reason for her to have missed this woman’s beauty before and for a moment she felt a sense of shame.  The sparkle of this woman’s brown eyes showed Sistah Shoop that they didn’t have to be blue to be beautiful.

Sistah Shoop patted the woman’s hand and smiled.  A simple gesture Shoop felt for an extraordinary stranger.  Delta flight 5240 headed to Atlanta was now ready for boarding.

For twenty minutes in two lives nothing outside of where they were mattered.  The only thing that had occurred was someone entering someone’s life for a fleeting moment.  And it was impossible for that moment to merely be coincidence, for in that small expanse of time Shoop was given the gift of vision.  How many years of her life had she seen beauty only where she desired to see it?  And in all those years had she seen ugliness or even plainness where she had been afraid to see beauty?  Sistah Shoop now understood that seeing from her heart presented a different view that she wouldn’t have necessarily seen from her eyes.

The entire exchange would never have happened if the woman had been one minute later, as Shoop had been on her way to the restroom.  How different her life would be today, she thought, had this woman not arrived right on time.  Sistah Shoop reached over and grabbed the wine bottle.  Wyndam Estate Vin 888, it was a cabernet merlot.  She pulled the cork out and looked around as if there were someone to notice then drank straight out of the bottle.  It was a good South East Australian wine she thought.  She poured some into her pasta sauce that was cooking.  Dinner was going to be good tonight…


Shoop 2003_06


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