There's something so routine about...routine. Regarding prayer, Judaism refers to keva vs. kavannah. Keva refers to the fixed things we must go through on a daily basis. The routine. Kavannah however, refers to something far more inspired, heartfelt, spontaneous. Our days are filled with cold repetitive routines, ritualistic behaviors that compel us without reason. Routine is often life without meaning or personal connection.
I go through my daily routines. I wake up. I brush my teeth. I shower. I dress. I eat. I start my car. I drive to work. I turn on lights. I hang up my coat. My training schedule has forced new routine. On Monday I wake up. I brush my teeth. I spray my goggles with anti-fog. I put on my swim suit. I drive to the gym. I park my car. I stand at the door with 3 or 4 others waiting for the door to be unlocked. I head down to the locker room. I put my belongings in a locker. I grab 2 towels. I enter the pool area. I put down my towels. I put on my goggles. I jump in the pool. I swim.
I see the same people every day I go to the gym. Most mornings the same people use the same lockers, swim in the same lanes and use the same showers. In fact, I share the same lane with the same man practically every time I swim at the gym. And every morning I pull into the parking lot, I see the same man standing at the door alone. I don't know his name, so I'll call him Joe. Joe is almost always the first in the pool. When he is first to arrive, he cannonballs in. That's his routine. When someone beats him to the pool, he jumps in quietly. I imagine that forced change to his routine is almost like waking up on the wrong side of the bed.
I don't know Joe, just like I didn't ever know the same people I saw every day on the New York subways and busses when I was living in Manhattan, just like I didn't know the people with whom I crossed paths each morning that I ran along the Hudson River. When I was a New Yorker, though I came to expect to see certain people in the morning, we never acknowledged one another. We each simply became part of one another's tired routine. Joe and I have silently come to the same mutual understanding. Ocassionally, I give him a subtle half-nod, but our communication ends there.
This morning, as is often the case, I was the second one to arrive at the gym entrance waiting for the ritualized opening of the doors. Sleepy eyed and numb, I was jarred awake by a morning breakthrough. Joe spoke to me. I actually did a double take. I wasn't sure he was really speaking to me. After I verified that I was the only other person around, I asked, "Pardon?"
"They finally changed the lights," he said, glancing up at the bulbs lighting up the entrance just in front of the front door.
"Look at that," I said. Profound. I know.
Not satisfied with my weak response, I tried again. "They sure are bring," I offered. That was better. This time I left the door open for more conversation.
"It's like daylight," Joe said.
"We can sure use a little extra this time of year," I responded.
That was the extent of our conversation. But still, it was a breakthrough. For Joe and for me, our morning routine, our keva became kavannah, spontaneous, real, human, connection. It wasn't profound, but it felt good. Suddenly this accessory of daily expectation became a man.
I know that it's common in life to take 2 steps forward and 1 step back. I cannot ancitipate what comes next for Joe and me, but I suppose our fate is just as much in my hands as it is in Joe's. I'm looking for real progress. What would represent measurable progress? Learning Joe's name and telling him mine. So that's my goal. Before I turn another year older on February 1, I aim to discover Joe's real name. And if it turns out to be Joe, well, that would just be freakin' ironic, wouldn't it?
I'll report back if and when the big day comes. Until then, I present a challenge. Guess Joe's name. Email me your prediction: mfield75@gmail.com. If you are the first to guess Joe's name correctly, I'll make a donation in Joe's honor to the charity of your choice.
My name is Matt. It's nice to meet you...
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