Meditation slows me down so that I can notice things.

Meditation helps me notice people like John.

John is a student at the gym where I teach. Whenever I see John, I feel like I’m visiting a long lost grandfather, a Rip Van Winkle who fell asleep and when he woke up, I was his favorite grandkid. 

When I walk down the fluorescent hallways at our fitness center, his face lights up with recognition.

“There she is!” he says. I feel his body ease from nonchalance into excitement. 

“How are you doing?” he wants to know. “How are the kids?”

We embrace every time. A full body hug that lasts the right amount of time, and a kiss on the cheek like my father’s father used to do. John’s love and light are so abundant, it feels like they transfer to me, filling me up.

John is a cup filler. I don’t know if he makes other people feel this way, or what it is about him that makes me feel this way. But whenever I see John, I think about him for days. He’s just one of those people. 

I want to be a John, myself, but I don’t really know how to. I want to embrace people fully and transfer my love to them. I want to fill up humanity with goodness and kindness, sharing what’s already there, adding my own to the pot for good luck. 

This does not feel like a learned skill. It feels like one of those things we’ve either got or haven’t got. But I’m more hopeful than that. I tell myself that faith means I can become the light I feel whenever I see my friend. 

I hope you’ve got a John in your world. I’m sending you all my love and light in the meantime, hoping you feel it right through the screen. Go hug your John. Or better yet, teach me how to become one.

Namaste. Every. Day.