a story of ordinary magic

Last night on the way home from a very long day, some magic happened to me.

I was on the Q train back to Brooklyn and was feeling well, like shit. Overwhelmed by the state of some things in my life, this week I have been losing courage on my path.

At Church Ave, someone got off the subway and left their bag. Before the doors shut, everyone was handing the bag around calling out to people who got off, but no one claimed it, so people put it back on the floor. I was watching silently. My stop was next and in between the stops I was thinking how awful and panicked that person was going to feel once they realized they had left it.

It was a black canvas bag with a bright red Boston Museum of Fine Arts logo on it.

As I got up to leave the train, I picked up the bag from the floor and said to everyone, “I’m going to give it to the station agent.”

As I walked the platform to the exit where the agent resides, I looked inside the bag. There was a cashmere-type scarf, a bible, a book, and all the person’s bills. I read the bills and realized the person lived on the next street over from mine, so I decided to walk the bag to her apartment.

It was only one street over, but it ended up being about 30 blocks away, deep in Bed-Stuy which isn’t the greatest neighborhood to be walking around alone with a dead cell phone in a white Patagonia jacket and Birkenstock sandals.

When I arrived at her building and rang her buzzer, no one answered. I rang the Super, no one answered. I hung around until a woman arrived and told her what I was doing. She seemed skeptical and because her Jamaican accent was so thick, I just kept nodding like an imbecile because I couldn’t really understand her. She eventually let me in and showed me to the elevator.

I was feeling kind of excited and nervous to meet the woman. I was picturing her being overjoyed and hugging me, and giving me a cold drink. I knocked a bunch on her door and no one answered.

I left the bag on the floor propped up against her door with the Boston MFA logo facing outward.

When I got out of the elevator back downstairs, my friend who let me in to the building was waiting for me. She wanted to know what was in the bag. “Well,” I told her, “among other things, was a bible.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “she’s a believer!! No wonder you brought the bag! I wish she could see you.”

“Well,” I said, “seeing you is just as good I think.”

“You are gonna get a big blessing for this.”

“Thank you. Good night” I called over my shoulder.

I walked the long walk back to my apartment thinking about being blessed. I kept picturing the woman getting off the elevator and seeing her lost bag against her door and the rush of relief and joy she would feel. There’s nothing better than finding something you’ve lost.

And I thought about how if we are open to the magic of life, there are millions of ways that we can get out of our own way and shift our focus from all of our own problems, even if just for a second, and do something really ordinary like be helpful, and be back in a state of a full and easeful heart.

I am someone that thinks life is calling to us all the time with opportunities for relief from our suffering. We just have to notice and respond.

Tagged as: Boston Museum Of Fine Arts, Brooklyn, Canvas Bag, Courage, Subway