Chicago
While living in the suburbs I seldom go into Chicago. Every place in northern Illinois is within the orbit of the city, one of the most populous in the country with 9.5 million people. The scale of the city causes discomfort. I have a sensation of 360 degrees of thinly veiled chaos when I am at street level on La Salle St, or Michigan Avenue..
Yesterday I chose to take the train into the city. I had a important appointment with a co-worker to discuss a topic of interest to both of us. No question, it was worth the time and effort for the meeting.
Emerging from Union Station I noticed many security personnel present, –men and women smartly dressed in their agency uniforms, armed, standing and walking around on the street. Not just the Chicago PD. It has been a while since I was last here.
The day was breezy and unsettled, as we met comfortably right by the Chicago River a short walk from Union Station. The talk between Tim and I was mutually satisfying. We agreed to move forward with mutual benefit in mind.
On my return to Union Station I visited McDonalds, prior to the departure time for my train. I met Jim who sat at the opposite side of the table to me. He appeared to be in his late 20s and was carrying a backpack. Jim mentioned that he was living on the street and told me a bit about his family. According to his words his mother loved him and in a few months he hoped to move back home and off the streets. He was from Downers Grove. I listened to his story about a warehouse job he planned for tomorrow. I wished him good fortune on that job. I found a granola bar and an apple in my bag which I passed on to him.
Another memory of my journey was a single yellow flower that caught my eye. Arriving early to the station for the train ride in, I took time to walk over to the wet lands adjacent to the station parking lot. In spring time the view was worth absorbing. I stood for perhaps a minute or two just noticing all that I could including the red winged blackbirds, and other winged dwellers of such places. Almost at my feet I glimpsed a single tiny yellow flower. I knelt down and observed it in detail. Surely one purpose of a flower is to be looked at. Not wanting to forget this tiny gift of beauty I took a picture with my iphone.
My conversation with Jim was not unlike the flower, memorable.
2 thoughts on “Chicago”
Engaging in conversations with strangers can lead to serendipitous experiences that stay with us, sometimes well past remembering the outing itself. These kinds of encounters, at least to me, are bits and pieces that flavor our lives and make the world a richer and more interesting place. We grow from these experiences and learn not only about the world around us but we garner a greater understanding of ourselves as well. More experiences like this await all who will take the time to stop and open the door to these situations, whether it is a person who you come upon or a flower by the side of the road. Glad to hear it was such a good outing.
I think that for many of us our default assumption is that the stranger will be unwilling, or unable to converse with us. We pass on, pretend not to notice anothers presence. I am glad that our proximity made the exchange of basic civility easy and ultimately gratifying. I wish that I could have heard more of his story.