Orly’s Table 5

I have no expectations. Just by being here, I am doing my work. I am curious. I’m exploring the difference between connection and mattering. It is… about 1pm. I need to leave by 3pm. For one, I’m not at the pier. This is deeper into Santa Monica. A decent walk away from the pier. I am stationed under a tree. There is some shade. The person sitting will be able to stare over my shoulder into the glistening ocean. The sun will also shine in their face, but it shouldn’t be unbearable. Parking costs 2.50 an hour. This is the most expensive parking yet. There’s a noticeably higher population of homeless people, or those who are dressed like they don’t have an apartment around here. I’ve observed all of this. Oh, it’s the day after Thanksgiving.

I’m remembering a Tony Robins podcast where he has a guest who speaks about the four types of people: Obligers, Upholders, Questioners, and Rebels. I am a questioner. This means that I only do things when they make sense to me. Once I can figure out how to understand something is beneficial to me, I can find the motivation to do it. Before then, I’ll be reluctant to put my best effort into it.

Today I brought Lobsty, my childhood stuffed animal. The second one I had of note. The first was Bunny, who I lost during preschool show and tell. I am still heartbroken by that loss. Lobsty has a long tenure in my life. Usually I bring a little cattle, but today I’m trying something new. Another observation. And now, to read.

Thirty minutes in, someone has given me a kind thank you. I smile about the good energy coming back to me.

As I read Oren’s book, I come through so many grains of wisdom and wonder how he has synthesized these communication skills nuances so well. It first gives me pause, that I do not have a spin on it that would add value. It also gives me hope that this work is being done in the world. By masters. It is happening. Oren is one man. Marshall Rosenberg, another. Myself, another. Together, are we more or less than three men? I stopped to write about presence. Marshall is Oren’s teacher. One of Oren’s other teachers asked him where it hurts when he talks about the pain in his heart. The presence and physical sensation. Oren recognizes that, once he is able to feel it, he is able to move it. And since he’s able to move it, he’s able to let it go. And that it self-kindness.

I laugh. I recognize that I can laugh in many ways. I try them out. I have such fun with it. With this, I am a man capable of many laughs. The man of a thousand laughs, I think. It sounds good to me. I enjoy the thought that I’ve tried well under half of them over my life and have so many more to explore. Or maybe I’ve tried more than that already and haven’t noticed.

A quote, “Instead of berating ourselves for forgetting, the key of success is to appreciate remembering.” This quote is relevant to Kelsey. I want to put it somewhere because kindness will abound from it.

It’s 1:56. Another person around my age, a man this time, says he loves what I’m doing.

The Crying Woman: It’s 2:08 now.  A woman and her friends stop by. She is drunk. The couple she is with encourages her to share. They say that she needs to talk to someone. She looks at me, without sitting, and she starts to cry. She says her mom died recently. She says her mom was her everything. She says her heart is broken. I’m noticing feelings of pain, sadness and loneliness. I didn’t have to say anything here. There was anger directed at her friend’s male partner. Well, she liked him but was expressing that he has to be good to her. I was trying to identify emotions so I said that I was noticing sadness, but it didn’t really land. Then, I thought about it and asked if she was feeling mad, and that landed. She opened up after that. Before she left, I said, “You matter.” Those words seemed to land. She cave me a hug, and then they were off. Her friend gave her a high five once they were several yards away.

Larry Weinberg: He visited me. It’s about 2:30pm. He sits down and says he’s happy to have his kids in town. I had Thanksgiving with them just the day before.

An older woman gives me the ‘ok’ sign with her fingers. Another many asked if I got any takers. I told him that I didn’t get many here, but more elsewhere. He said this was a good idea. A photographer with a DSLR took pictures of me and asked about my story.

Another man stopped by and asked if I was a screenwriter. I said I was, among other things. I said if something I’ve written ends up on a screen, I’ve either done something terribly wrong or incredibly right. That’s my next answer to that question.

A man on a bike said, “This is nice.”

I love shrimp: A man stopped and sits and said, “I love shrimp. I think it’s the best food. I believe in shrimpology,” and he was gone. The conversation lasted about twenty seconds.

Marco: He speaks mostly Spanish, but he spoke to me. He was with his friend, who must have stepped away to take a phone call. He says he’s on vacation from Mexico. He says he’d met a man from India who lives on three dollars a day, who surfs daily, has a roof over his head, eats anything he wants. The Indian man is single, and, as Marco says, free. He is free. Meanwhile, Marco is on vacation from Mexico, where he has a house, a wife, two kids. I notice he has several intricate geometric tattoos that seem to cover his torso. He has the name Abby on his left bicep. It’s a big tattoo, and it’s connected to something larger that goes into his sleeve. He asks why I’m here and I give the short answer – I want to create a domino effect. He likes the idea. He asks if I need a job to sustain myself. He talks about his own life choices he must make. He won’t sent his kids to school in Mexico, but does he send them to school in the US or Canada? He wants them to get a better job than the education his country offers will allow. I can tell he clearly cares for his family. I answer his question about my job needs. I say I do need a job and that I can’t do this forever without one, and that I’m afraid that I am doing the right thing. He’s satisfied with the answer. We express gratitude for the time we shared, he follows me on Instagram, and departs to find his friend.

It's past three now. Time is up. Time for me to reintegrate with my own normal life. Or what? I am integrated now. It is part of my practice, huh. So what does it mean to reintegrate then? To be with my family and friends? To face my own growth realm by taking these lessons into the next conversations I have? My meter was about to run out.

Gregory: It seems to be a trend that the best conversations happen right as I’m about to pack up. First, Dieema, then the poet, and now Gregory. He comes up with his huge glowing smile and a gleaming shining energy of positivity. He says that he’s a bus driver on break, and he points to a parked Santa Monica city bus across the street. He says that’s his bus over there. And he sits next to me, not across from me. He tells me that he’s proud of his positive vibes that he emanates.

He tells me that’s he’s had a busy day, made worse by a veteran coworker who deceived him. She lied or omitted a piece of information and made him do extra work. He says that he would have been happy to do it if she just asked him, and was more disappointed or frustrated that she manipulated him. Some people passed by and Gregory shined his light on all of them. We sit and he waves and laughs and smiles at anyone who passes by, saying “This is a listening table! This is Orly!”

During the conversation, I was keenly aware that my meter had expired. Fortunately, I didn’t get a ticket. And it’s not even four o’clock yet. I haven’t really done anything else today. Let’s get some balance in! I owe it to myself to carry forward!