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I met a man today.

I met a man today. He was sitting at the community table in the cafe, sipping a cappuccino. His face looked worn, but it was the good kind of worn, like he had experienced everything the world had to offer him. He hid his face behind an old laptop, the screen reflecting in his scratched bifocals.The sight of his shaky hands moving across the computer keyboard, slowly one letter by one finger at a time, made me fear the idea of ever growing old. We sat like strangers avoiding each other, never making eye contact, however close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

Then he took a long breath, pushed his laptop aside, and leaned in closer. “Excuse me,” he said to me in his heavy French accent. “Did you know it is much easier to memorize the muscular anatomy of the heart with this moving picture diagram rather than that textbook of yours.” He presented his laptop screen towards me showing a video of a mechanical heart pumping. I was a little confused at first, and even more so surprised. I looked at my pile of anatomy and physiology books next to me, caught off guard at the fact that he noticed what I was reading at all, let alone that I was across the table from him. I attempted conversation with him about my studies. He seemed deeply interested. And as strange and cliche as this sounds, it didn’t take much time before we were talking about our own lives and how we got to where we were. He was a retired doctor, a psychologist, from UC Berkeley. His well rounded knowledge of science definitely impressed me, and he was so encouraging. Perhaps there was a 60 year difference in our age, but he was intriguing as hell. He is probably one of the kindest and most interesting men I have met in my life. 

We talked about schooling, and he even pulled his laptop out and began helping me research the best post graduate schools for my major. We talked about dancing, and he gave me a list of the best swing, salsa, and jazz dancing clubs around. And then we talked about travel. He had spent most of his off time traveling, when he wasn’t working at the hospital. He was leaving for Paris in 2 weeks, and from there travelling to Prague. He said he had only a plane ticket. No rooms. No plans. Just the thrill of spontaneity. Now this man really had me interested. I said how much I was made to travel, and how much I wished I could just get up and leave to see the world. And then he said, “Then go. Just do it. This is your life. This may be your last week here. Why are you waiting? Just go.”

I laughed in humor at the very idea of just packing up and going somewhere. But I cried a little inside. I feel so stationary here where I am. Cooped up in a small house in Napa. Sometimes I think my free spirit gets overwhelmed from my big ideas that it just gets too tired to actually pursue them. I think that I’m done being overwhelmed though. Its time for a new adventure, alone or with someone. 

Thank you, to the old French man in the cafe who inspired me to ignore complacency. Its just a little ironic that he had to look at my textbook heart to tell me that I was looking at the wrong picture, and that instead of looking at a still heart, I should be looking at the live, moving heart.