The Power of Our Presence, a Story of Two Strangers.

I love being alone. I’m perfectly okay with it. In fact, I crave solidarity and make it a priority. While I enjoy my own company, it’s more than that. It’s a time to empty out the extra: the energy of others, the thoughts swirling around in my head, all of the unnecessary gunk is given the opportunity to find its way out of my body. It’s a time to return to the quietness of my heart so that I can hear God when I’m spoken to.

I spend a lot of time walking through the woods as a way to fulfill this desire. Being alone as a woman often goes hand in hand with fear. Fear I’ve absorbed from the news, nerves bestowed upon me from my partner and parents concerned with my safety, and the occasional fear of my own that creeps in when my body alerts me.

While I go to the woods in solitude, I’m never actually alone. If I drive into the parking lot and I’m the only car, I go elsewhere. There are two vehicles that have come to represent safety to me. When my tires hit the gravel road and either one of them is there a smile creeps in and a slight exhale moves out. Two cars, two strangers, yet their presence has created a deep sense of safety within me that I feel incredibly grateful for.

The first car, a small red vehicle with matte chipped paint, is owned by a gentleman likely in his 50’s. The first time I passed him on the trail I took note of the way he waved with his whole body. He made sure to create a comfortable situation by saying hello well before our paths crossed. I felt myself relax. Over the course of the year I started to notice his accent, that he speaks to his family every single day on Facetime as he walks, and that he never ever fails to say hello with the biggest smile that extends from eyes to feet and his hand waving enthusiastically overhead. Eventually one day we parked next to each other and I said hello as we both put on our muddy boots outside our cars. He is from Venezuela, his family lives there. That’s who he speaks to on his walks. He concluded that conversation with, “God bless you, my dear.” We always say hello and I always feel safe knowing he is there. A complete stranger whose name I do not know, yet a strange sense of love between us. I park by his car if he’s there and he parks by mine. Often our paths never cross on the trails, but the energy of being there at the same time creates a safety within me that I am endlessly grateful for. One day I will know more about his story. Stay tuned.

Car number two, a white two door Chevy pick up truck with a specific decal on the back window, driven by an older gentleman and his sweet beagle. I’ve come to notice their daily routine. On warm days they walk to the trails, I assume they live close by. They’re quiet, the man more so than the beagle, yet their presence is powerful. A simple hello and a militant nod of his head that I’ve come to mimic as I return the greeting.

Of the hundreds of people I’ve encountered, these two individuals have unknowingly created a sense of safety each time I pull into the parking lot. They’re not always there, but when they are, I notice. Two strangers with very little exchange of information were able to make a profound impact on me. I worry about them when I don't see their cars for more than a few days. When they return I feel relieved.

I imagine the likelihood that someone else has had this experience with me is high. We are all impacting one another simply through our presence every minute of every day. The energy behind our intentions is palpable. The love we hold within us is felt by others without having to understand the in’s and out’s of it’s workings.

I vow to take radical responsibility for my presence. Each of us are equal in our potential to impact this world and sometimes that can feel overwhelmingly big. So I try to make it more digestible for myself: Our presence is a tool God uses to create Heaven on Earth and I want to be a part of that.

Xoxo,

Em