Thursday, January 27, 2011

best things ever.

the 3 a's of awesome
by: Neil Pasricha

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

人生を楽しむ

self image.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Thursday, October 28, 2010

come, warm my heart.

The Cab Ride 

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. 
After waiting a few minutes,
I walked to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a 
frail, elderly voice. I could hear something 
being dragged across the floor.


After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in 
her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a 
print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned 
on it, like somebody out of a 1940's 
movie.


By her side was a small nylon 
suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had 
lived in it for years. All the furniture was 
covered with sheets.


There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils 
on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard 
box filled with photos and 
glassware.


'Would you carry my bag 
out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase 
to the cab, then returned to assist the 
woman.


She took my arm and we walked 
slowly toward the curb.


She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I 
told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers 
the way I would want my mother to be
treated.'


'Oh, you're such a good
 boy, she said. 
When we got in the cab, she gave
me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive 
through downtown?' 


'It's not the shortest way,' 

I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 

'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a 
hospice.


I looked in the rear-view 
mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have 
any family left,' she continued in a soft 
voice.. 'The doctor says I don't have very 
long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the 
meter.


'What route would you like me 
to take?' I asked.


For the next two hours, we drove through the city. 

She showed me the building where she had 
once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the 
neighborhood where she and her husband had lived 
when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in 
front of a furniture warehouse that had once 
been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a 
girl.


Sometimes she'd ask me to slow 
in front of a particular building or corner and 
would sit staring into the darkness, saying 
nothing.


As the first hint of sun was 
creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm 
tired. Let's go now'.


We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was 
a low building, like a small convalescent home, 
with a drivew
ay that passed under a 
portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we

pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching
her every move. They must have been expecting her.
opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to 
the door. The woman was already seated in a 
wheelchair.


'How much do I owe you?' 
She asked, reaching into her 
purse.


'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.


Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. 

She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' 

she said.  'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning 
light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound 
of the closing of a life..



I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove 
aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that 
day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had 
gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient 
to end his shift?



What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked 
once, then driven away?


On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything 
more important in my life.


We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve 
around great moments.


But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully 
wrapped in what others may consider a small 
one.


Often it is the random acts of 
kindness that most benefit all of 
us.


Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we 
are here we might as well dance. 

Monday, October 25, 2010

enchantment.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

dream bigger.