Hello Forever

I recognized his soul. It used to shoot baskets on the court outside my house. This soul appeared as a lanky teen-aged boy with wavy brown hair parted straight down the middle, leaving shiny layered wings on each side of the part. He sported an easy smile that lit up the street. That boy saved me from loneliness more times than he could possibly know. Saved me from myself as I tended to get lost in the shuffle back then, having two oldish parents and two oldish siblings, always loving, but all too busy, too tired, or too distracted to play. This boy was a soul to share space with. Comfort at no cost. Pure freedom, fearless togetherness. Playful company. Compassion when needed but mostly just… there. Existing in parallel, sharing space and time. I wonder if he knew what a refuge he was. I guess I’ll never know. After all, that was at least three lifetimes ago.

Ten-year-old me had no clue what fourteen-year-old him thought about on that court. A swish here, a clank on the rim there, an occasional air ball, but mostly swishes. Dribble, dribble, shoot, repeat. Mornings, afternoons, evenings, late nights even. The neighbors complained about the incessant bouncing – that same rhythmic twang pleased me to no end. Someone is out there playing. Thinking. Being. Someone with a brilliant smile and a warm heart. Someone I can talk to… or not. Someone I can just be me with. Was he on a team? Was he practicing for something? I don’t know! I never gave it a single thought. As far as I knew, he was out there to ‘be.’ To play. To breathe. And to share space with me.

He probably rolled his eyes when he saw me running out my front door to play. He probably needed a little solitude. He probably wished I could at least sink a foul shot once in a while. But I rarely did. He never showed me the slightest annoyance. I’d chase his rebounds and pass the ball back, ‘courtesy’ I think we called it back in the day. It was my absolute pleasure.

Strange though, despite the hours, days, even years we spent sharing that space, I cannot recall a single conversation between us. Not one word we may have spoken to each other comes to mind. Not one. Yet, somehow, forty years later, in a house I’d never been in, visiting people I barely knew, the moment I felt his presence, I recognized his soul. It felt like home. That brilliant smile still there. That ease and warmth, that aura of comfort, all of it waiting to welcome me home.

I do recall laughing together back then. Not sure about what though. Things kids laugh about, I guess. Things that kept us light in a sometimes heavy world. Back then, to ten-year-old me, he was sunshine and honeysuckle and wild flowers. Just lightness.

Forty years later I recognized his soul. It was light – not heavy, and light – not dark. That brilliant smile still there. That warmth, that comfort to share space, fully present. Of course, there were words now. Stories of people and places, sadness and happiness, success and failure; life. That was all very nice. I enjoyed it immensely. But that feeling… that energy, that familiar vibration, hit me the moment I saw his smile. Forty years later I recognized his soul. It was light and light. That brilliant smile still there. That warmth, that comfort to share.

Did he recognize my soul? Maybe he rolled his eyes for old time’s sake?! Haha, no, I cannot imagine that power came from only inside of me – it felt much bigger; it filled the room and bounced off the walls. The memories were palpable… street lights dimming, lawnmowers whirring, green grass waving, Long Island clay mixed with sand and dirt, wet leaves, acorn whistles, sticky helicopter seeds, running bases, hide and seek, and basketball. Maybe he felt it too?

He walked me to my car that day… the most natural thing in the world at the time but strange looking back. Maybe he is known for walking people out? Maybe it’s just his thing. Funny how I don’t really know him at all. It was sweet. I was not sad to go. My heart was happy. I may not know him, but I recognized his soul; reconnected after all this time, never severed, merely covered over by time. Swept clean and strengthened, if only for an hour.

He tells me he’s lived three lifetimes since then… full on odysseys I’d say; he filled me in on his obsession with reading, his interesting careers, his love of music and lyrics, and how he has stayed close to his awesome clan. I find his journey interesting. For two souls who didn’t have much to say to each other we share a love of words, expression, deep thought. Like me, he continues to discover who he is, who he was, and who he aspires to be. Kind of amazing, with all that life lived, all the growth and change and transformation, I still recognized his soul. It was light as a south shore sunset; light as seagulls soaring through the skies of our home town.

It would be weird for us to hang out in the street outside my house now. No doubt our families would think so. A connection borne so pure; how can it be preserved in such an impure world? Can soul connections survive here? I’m not sure, but in case this one doesn’t, I’d like him to know that I recognized his soul that day. It was light as a Lindy breeze, bending the trees that lined our street. His smile lit up an unfamiliar room, flooded it with a golden aura of warmth, traveled through time, and brought me back home.

As he walked me out, few words were spoken, reminiscent of three lifetimes ago. Existing in parallel, sharing space and time. I knew it was not goodbye forever… it actually felt more like hello forever. Maybe we’ll keep in touch, maybe we won’t be that lucky, I don’t know. In any case, I look forward to seeing him again in the next life and the next after that. Going forward, I’ll be sure to ask him what he’s thinking.