smiley circles

Today, among all the brilliant things that Joe Fiorito said, this was one of the best:

“Be here, right now”

Obvious, right?

False.

After years of writing columns- and fucking good ones, too- for Toronto Star, Joe knows what he’s doing. He told the teens and twenty-something-old students sitting in front of him to take off their ipods when they’re walking on the street, and look, listen, and ask. He told them that if they don’t care about what they’re doing or writing about, no one else would. And if no one cares about any one, and if there are no more stories to tell or to listen to, then what the fuck are we doing here?

After all, there is one ultimate ending we all share –death, and meanwhile, we’re all in this together, right?

Right.

This all can sound so mundane, obvious, or cliché. All of us at some point or another have thought about these things, and continue to do so depending on who we are (socio-paths excluded). And yes, they can sound out-dated and paternal. But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re true.

After class, as I was waiting for the streetcar, I saw a cute little old man sitting on the sidewalk, looking at passersby with ragged clothes, a curious look and a (literally) frozen smile. He was holding tight to a Second Cup, that was inside a Tim Horton’s cup, all inside a venti Starbucks cup. He had a cardboard on his left side with pictures of jesus, and some other saints I’m not familiar with, taped on it. He was of Asian dissent.

I gave him a dollar and he smiled.

On the subway, there were three people, a robust woman and two other men, who were talking in sign language. I tried not to stare and also not look like I’m trying. It’s a hard act to maintain. Two women standing next to me did stare at the animated conversation, but with a wide smile and kind eyes. They were speaking a language I guessed to be African.

By the time I was strolling on Devonshire toward the library, I felt warm and exuberant. I didn’t know why.

A cool boy was holding an old stranger’s hand and was trying hard to understand where it was that the white-bearded fellow wanted to go.

I smiled at them.

A girl across the street and walking in the opposite direction was looking at orange leafs falling in front of her, when she smiled.

I smiled.

A man was walking towards me and as soon as we crossed eyes,

We smiled.

Cliché. Cheesy. Flakey.

Whatever, I was happy.