This past Friday I found myself in the company of Indians. No, not the ones mistaken for Native Americans (of which I am one of) the real version, from India. The invitation came from a man that I have gotten to know over the past year or so. I watched him performing yoga poses at the gym I frequent. I cannot for the life of me remember what started our communion but as time went by our serendipitous meetings always left me with a deep inspiration that would stay with me for days at a time. It never occurred to me that I would leave an impression with him. When I found that he was going through some emotional upset I started to get to know that this man was not just someone who entered my life to enhance my afflatus. He was a man of substance and breadth to be sure, but I also observed a deeply sensitive human being that took nothing in his life for granted, and when a life disappeared near him he took personal responsibility as if it was one of his own. It was a truly remarkable introspective that is so rare to observe, and he let me be apart of, which was extremely personal. I learned a lot about him and a lot about how it is to revere the life we are given. I have always tried to remain grateful for all the things the Almighty has bestowed on me but my burgeoning relationship with this man helped me see through the lens of authenticity. I have been praying that I bring a congruent heart and mind.
I have never before been in a social situation with a group of ethnic people that are so connected to each other in their heritage and yet are so open to those outside their ethnicity. It was truly a singular experience from the first moment until the last goodbye. The way I was embraced was totally unexpected and I was welcomed with open minds and this was just my feeling, open hearts as well. There really was no secret to it I imagined because if I was welcome in this home I must have crossed a threshold that is not handed out like tissue after a sneeze.
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