The Journey: Month Fourteen.

Every month I start writing my piece for The Journey on the twenty-first. I’m not sure why I selected this date, but it has become a habit. The problem with February is that it is a few days shorter than the rest of the months. So Month Fourteen has been a bit of a scramble to get it all together. Nevertheless this month I have collated three short vignettes. These three stories provided me with some different versions of self-reflection. Before I share with you, I would like to once again thank Max Francis for writing his piece on The Closer Look series. This also provided me with some much-needed time off from writing, so thanks Max! Normally I look for stories that teach me something about the world. However this month I decided to write some stories that taught me about myself, enjoy!

Most days I try and read before I write. Recently I have been going to the Customs Cafe to read in the mornings. It's a handy location as it is just around the corner from the Welly Writers Studio. One morning as I headed to Customs I knew I was going to finish my book. I had just over fifty pages to go. Customs was busy, it’s always busy. I like to sit on the stools along the front window. There was one stool left and it happened to be next to another young guy who was also reading. He wore a chunky knit sweater, Jorts, and Docs. I sat down and started reading. I noticed he was reading Franz Kafka's The Trial. I tried to read this book last year. I found it too slow and too monotone, I just couldn’t get through it. It was one of two books that I abandoned reading midway through. I was impressed to notice that the guy next to me had almost finished the book. I slowly approached the end of my book and as I flipped to the last page the guy next to me placed his copy of The Trial down. The book closed and the bookmark sitting on top, Finished. Then 30 seconds later I finished my last page, and I put my book down with the bookmark on top. I believe finishing a book is a very personal but significant achievement. Reading takes time and focus, but not nearly as much as it takes to write a book. Books are like a part of the author's soul that they live in for a time. As a reader you are invited into their soul for a set amount of time, then you leave. As a reader, you enter into a relationship with a pre-determined ending. I find it sad when I finish reading a book. the sadness is also mixed in with a grand sense of achievement. (I have written before about books being trophies). These mixed feelings were amplified by the stranger next to me. He was probably feeling the same mix of emotions that I feel when I finish a book. It was strange and beautiful to experience a deep and personal moment alongside a stranger. Congratulations to the guy sitting next to me for finishing The Trial. One day I hope to join you in passing the trial which is reading Kafka's work.

Driving my car has now become a novelty since moving to Wellington. Other than doing odd jobs or traveling beyond the city I have no use for it in my day-to-day life. When I do get a chance to drive I’m reminded of how much I love the activity. There is power in transportation, the power of freedom. If you see me driving my Mini out and about I’ll probably have the windows down, beaming ear to ear as I shift from gear to gear. I was driving through Newtown recently and came to a halt at a set of traffic lights. In the lane next to me, there was one of those new Ioniq 5 NZ post vehicles with their windows down. I must say I love the look of the Ioniq 5 it embodies the look of what a fully electric car should be. Perfect for NZ Post to show off as they strive to have a fully electric fleet by 2030. My admiration for the vehicle was interrupted by it’s driver letting out a very loud sneeze. He did nothing to cover up his sneeze he just let it all out. Why would he? he is in his capsule of freedom with no one else watching, or so he thinks. I think about whether I should respond or just leave it. Whilst I think and observe he sneezes again this time louder than before. If I were to respond what do I say or do? The obvious answer is to shout back “Bless you!” As I worked up the courage to say this the next time he sneezes. (if you sneeze twice a third is on its way, right?) Instead what I witnessed was something else. He gargled all of his snot into his mouth, and then spat out all that phlegm and spit into the footwell of the sleek Ioniq 5. The light turned green and we both shot off. The postman was blissfully unaware that anyone had witnessed his sinus clearing activities. We all do gross things when we think no one is watching. Except I was watching. Unfortunately for him, I’m a writer on a newsletter. The sort of newsletter that covers weird, gross, and interesting observations. Observations such as post-men clearing their sinuses into the footwell of their car. Was he in the wrong? I don’t think so, I do gross things when I think no one's watching all the time. How many stories like this do people have of me or you? I guess we will never know.

A young boy ran past me the other day on my walk home. He was dressed in a Scout uniform which consisted of a large grey shirt tucked into a pair of black shorts. Around his neck hung a yellow and green scarf, I used to be a Scout. It was as if I was running down the road. It was a surreal moment that lasted longer than I felt it should have. I looked at my watch it was three past six, he was late probably that would explain why he was running. I just watched this boy run as memories of my time in scouts came back to me. I was listening to the Johnny Cash version of Bridge over Trouble Water for the first time. I know the original very well so was familiar with the song. Cash’s vocal delivery was new to me however, his voice feels lived in. You can hear the ages and experiences in the lyrics. Cash sings the lyrics which have been so profound for such a long time like they have been profound for a long time. As opposed to the original which has been much loved for many years but has sounded the same since the day it came out. This version of the song spoke specifically to the moment that I was encountering. This surreal experience of reliving my own memories through watching this young boy being late for scouts. I had thought about my time as a Scout before but only remembered memories through the lens of my ten-year-old self. Now I was brought to those memories through a lens of my current self. Able to look back at myself in the context of that time instead of remembering that time itself. It was like watching a scene in a movie about my own life it wasn’t good or bad it just was.

I shared a moment with each of these people, the Scout, the Post-man, and the Reader. I think they all went about their days blissfully unaware of the impact that each of these moments had on me. People have a strange way of making a splash in other people's worlds often without realising it. It's strange to think that we have the opportunity and probably already have influenced strangers' lives. Often you won’t hear the story that they tell about you. I think we all play a more important role in the universe than we realise.

Much love, Be blessed

Jesse