My friend Smitty is going to be a guest blogger today. I met Smitty a number of years ago through an online dating site. We've been friends ever since. Smitty is an accomplished photographer and musician whose daytime gig is in the world of telecommunications. On the side, Smitty uses his photography to make really creative postcards documenting his travels and his community. I really appreciate him taking the time to guest-blog at Presence of Mind.
Contagion
The Thesaurus lists this as 'the spreading of attitude or emotion from person to person' - the contagion of happiness.
This essay actually began in my head on the day I was able to smile my way out of a parking ticket. It was a beautiful day. The morning sunlight was electric.
"I was only there a minute," I thought as the parking officer turned her constabulary gaze from the grin on my face to the task at hand, her ticket book.
"Man, you were quick," I began, although thinking to myself- never a cop anywhere you need one, "but I deserve it (the ticket)..." And I did. And I smiled about it.
I was feeling like a million bucks. I had just stepped out of a flower shop where I had been attempting to peddle my wares as a photographer. The woman behind the counter loved and my work and I was beaming with happiness.
The parking officer interrupted my reverie.
"Feed the meter," she said, closing her pad, which meant no ticket for me.
"Thank you... thank you," was all I could muster.
"Feed the meters," she repeated, eyes gleaming. Then she turned away, sliding into her patrol car. She never looked back. Before I knew it, she was gone.
What had just happened? Whatever it was, I decided that my life could really use moments like this more often.
I stepped into my illegally parked truck, turned the engine over, and the turned down the radio.
"Thank you, God!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I was almost shouting with total joy. I was in the moment and in the flow.
The gal in the flower shop... She started this... Hmmm... Good thoughts, I concluded. Let's look into this...
There was nothing else to do but to continue panning my wares. My mood was elevated and my self-assurance was tilted forward... all because of a smile and a kind word from a woman whose face I could now barely recall.
I headed to the health food shop and its companion cafe.
I enjoyed visiting the store. The tone was always cheerful and accepting. Handmade or homegrown goods always received a hearty no-nonsense examination. The smiles around me were genuine, and the comments honest and direct.
"You need a stand or card rack... or
"Maybe clear plastic envelopes for groups or assortments..."
Their ideas were really good, I thought, and very centered. And I wish I COULD find those clear envelopes. Once I do, I'll be closer to understanding zero point energy quantum...
I forced myself to stay focused.
Besides, Beth was supposed to find the envelopes...
The cafe next door was warm, relaxed, and artful. I ordered a small mocha and shared a sampler of my cards with the afternoon crew.
"These are great!"
"We'll put them out here on the counter..."
"I'll leave your card on the owner's desk..."
Wow! What more could my heart desire?
Well, actually a sale would do nicely. I could use the gas.
With my mood still elevated and feeling the world a hopeful place, I set out for my final stop, a small flower shop in my neighborhood.
The owner didn't know me and was skeptical about my presence... although he seemed to catch the flow and opened up. As he perused my art and accepted a sampler for his customers to consider, he made small talk about the other neighborhood business owners and his teacup-sized dogs.
He also suggested I visit a local candy store and another florist down the street before I headed home.
The candy shop was quaint, atmospheric, and busy. The owner, a woman in her forties, reminds me of a guy I know.... "boorish, me thinks..."
She tore open my samples and shuffled them like a deck of playing cards, not looking at any of them. She handed them back to me.
My smile was persistent. I never wavered.
"Terry Pratchett is the most shop-lifted author in England..." she said.
Maybe it's wearing off... This encounter has become sadly laughable.
"And I usually bring a man out of Minnestota to fix my phone," she continued.
I wanted to remind her this was Indiana and hey y'all... but there was no talking to her. I left my card and retreated.
My last stop was the tiny floral shop. It was getting late now. The sun was getting ready to drop over the western edge for the day.
I had never visited this shop either. My eyes lit on the sign on the door that said 'No Solicitors.'
Behind the counter stood a well-dressed woman of... Well, I opted not to guess her age.
I smiled, introduced myself, and handed her my cards. I think she may have wanted to smile but didn't. She seemed very cold.
I apologized for not heeding the sign and excused myself.
The contagion was over! It had run it's course! Gone!
But it wasn't gone for me though...
I sped home to my pup's rambunctious embrace. She's always glad to see me and I needed another shot.
I read somewhere that "It takes a village to raise an idiot."
Not so. I'm doing it all by myself.
In closing, there is a pretty cool Indian proverb printed on the back of the Beach Boys Smiley Smile album, 'The smile you send out returns to you.'
Think about it.
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