After losing my AirPods at O’Hare on Saturday, I had no choice but to listen
to the world around me. All week, I listened: to the baristas gossip, the steaming
oat milk, the trees sneezing, sesame oil snapping in my pan, the mom
in the stall next to me say: don’t lock the door, Baby and the little girl
say, Mommy, I’m going to lock the door, okay? It’s important
to listen to the world when the universe tells you: Listen! So I listened
to my neighbor’s baby bound across the floor downstairs, I heard
her father clapping. I listened to the mechanical hum of the electric cars
passing the apartment, the canter of their new wheels on my brick street. I heard
the wind change directions. The more I listened, I saw: the universe
had beauty still: Siri spoke in meter, my hoya bloomed, Cameron Diaz had wrinkles,
and two of my best friends were getting married on Saturday!
I listened to my heart when it said it wanted a hot dog
with chips on top, I listened to the churn of the slushy machine,
the sound of me sucking the boozy ice up my straw—you were allowed
to have a cocktail and a hot dog on the Tuesday before your two best friends
got married. At the indie theater I overheard friends introducing their fathers:
Meet my Dad! What’s your name? Keith! Meet my Dad, this is his favorite movie.
He’s Cliff! Hi Cliff. Hi Keith. Hi Keith. Hi Cliff. Keith, I’m going to go put these beers down
so I can give you a hug. I wouldn’t have heard any of that, if I wasn’t listening.
I wouldn’t have heard the bird song sync up with the tame pop ballad
playing over the speakers at the family friendly chicken tender joint—it was
the kind of place I’d normally hate but I couldn’t hate anything, not this week.
This week, my Uber driver’s name was Innocent. Innocent was arriving.
Innocent was here. The world sounded so beautiful, the week before the wedding.
Love was coming, love was here.