// an extra ordinary day

today was an extra ordinary day; extra, ordinary. 

but it was also extraordinary. 

it was just a regular monday. the day in which i must wake up uncomfortably early to make my morning class.

just a regular day in which nothing out of the norm happened. 

but somehow it feels like a blissful day... like i've been sleep walking through my extra ordinary monday. 

* * *

it started with the sun, 

i suppose.

the sun that was shining brightly in the sky, as it reminds us of its existence. 

the sun that warmed my skin and rosed my cheeks as i walked to the bus.

as i missed my bus, and waited for my bus.

the sun that has called all the humans in my neighbourhood to open their doors and allow their soft voices to drift to my back yard, 

where they become a soft melody i listen to as i write this. 

* * *

it continued with a chance encounter,

in the cafeteria.

a chance encounter with an older man who frequents the cafe i work at. a man that shouldn't have been in my college cafeteria, but against all odds, was.

his name is malcolm.

he's an incredibly kind and gentle soul, the kind that smiles kindly, brightly, warmly, as he asks about your day.

he's the kind that you say hello to, even when you wouldn't say hello to any other soul that frequent the cafe that you work at. 

"hello, malcolm"i said when i walked up to his table

he seemed surprised to see me, but happy. 

"so this is molly in the world," he said to me, laughing lightly.

"me in my natural habitat," i replied, also laughing.

"i certainly hope you don't spend all day here!" the punchline of our banter.

i meant to just say hi and walk somewhere else to eat my breakfast solitarily, but he smiled and suggested we move to a table where we both could sit. 

so we did.

we talked for a while, at the beginning, about nothing important. 

the topic moved a little more personal, and soon i was asking malcolm about his wife.

married almost 30 years, they had met when malcolm was in his early 50's. 

i smiled at this, when he told me. 

i smiled because, unbeknownst to malcolm, the fact he had married so late in life satisfied a rather large fear in my life.

along with marrying late, malcolm is on his third marriage. his third, and happiest marriage. 

i smiled because, my own father, now in his 40's, is going through his 3rd divorce. 

i smiled because, i want my father to find love again. find a love that lasts, a love that is the happiest and most pure love he will know. 

malcolm gave me a questioning look when i asked how old he was when he married his third wife. (as most people would, at such a personal question.)

"my dad is going through his third divorce," i told malcolm quietly

"i want him to find someone again," i looked down.

"ah," malcolm said, or rather, sounded.

"it can happen at any age," he continued

"it's all luck, really. you can go looking for it, but it's all luck. and it can happen anytime."

i smiled because it was true. and because it made me optimistic.

our banter continued.

malcolm asked about my schooling.

i told him it was going well, but that i didn't know if it was where i wanted to be right now. 

i confided that i had pretended, for a day, that i was graduated and had my degree.

i confided that i had pretended to look for a job in my field.

and i confided that it depressed me, that there were more jobs in my field in america - where they are known to be a little less green and loving than canadians.

i confided in malcolm that i wanted to have a career in environmental conservation, wildlife conservation, marine conservation.

malcolm confided in me, next.

he confided that he sees a lot of pessimism in the world regarding the environment.

he confided in me that he believes that, when you look at the big picture, every year the world gets a little bit better.

i smiled because it was polite. 

i smiled, but inside i was frowning. 

he confided that every year human well being is getting better. in the big picture.

inside, i agreed. human well being is getting better. 

he confided that he is optimistic about the future. he confided that he doesn't think the environment needs conservationists to actively save it. he confided that he thinks it is doing just fine.

"there's no evidence otherwise," he said

"environmentalists push their pessimism outwards on other people, and they get behind the big preachers, like david suziki. and they think that it's bad if everyone doesn't agree with them to save the world."

i frowned. i couldn't help it. 

malcolm continued for a while with the same reasoning for his optimism: human well being is improving.

he suggested i could find a job on a pipeline, as an environmental consultant. 

"i don't want to work with people," i said

"i really don't like people. i don't want to have my career be one where i have to interact with a lot of humans."

malcolm seemed surprised, 

he seemed surprised because we met at the place where i work.

and at that place, i work with people. 

and i work with people nicely and happily.

i had to explain that it takes a lot out of me, i told malcolm how i quit recently because of that. and i told him that i'm a very large introvert. a pessimistic introvert.

malcolm smiled,

"i'm an optimistic introvert." he replied. 

despite the fact that malcolm and i have such black and white believes when it comes to the idea of environmental conservation, i was still enjoying our talk. 

i was enjoying it quite a lot.

malcolm would stop quite frequently and apologize for "preaching", as he called it.

i would smile, largely, kindly, genuinely, and tell him to continue.

malcolm told me he would change my pessimistic ways about the environment.

i laughed, and told him he was welcome to try. 

the thing is, 

while i was talking with malcolm,

i was thinking a lot, pessimisticly and introvertedly, that the world does need environmental conservationists.

i was thinking that although human well being is increasing, the well being of every thing else is declining. rapidly.

i voiced this opinion to malcolm.

"the lives of the humans in the forests are improving,"  malcolm said.

"but the plants and the animals in the forest are also thriving."

i smiled and nodded my head, although inside i was frowning and shaking my head. 

the topic changed to his home land, england.

we talked about where he grew up for a while.

and then i confided in malcolm, again.

i confided that i had been thinking of not continuing studies, but in moving to ireland for a while.

i confided that my heart wasn't in it, anymore.

i confided that i was confused.

i confided that i was lost.

"the thing is," malcolm said,

"you can do whatever you want. but when you decide to do it, do it full out.

don't do it halfway.

don't be one of those people that sits in a basement and says 'oh, but i could do this. or this. or this.' but doest nothing at all. just do it. and do it full out."

i smiled.

i smiled huge. 

i smiled because, as i confided in malcolm, i had expected him to say to stay in school.

he was, after all, a retired physics professor.

i smiled because he caught me off guard.

i smiled because his advice was exactly what i needed to hear.

i smiled because he was right.

we parted ways soon after this, and malcolm stated again that he would try to make me more optimistic in our next encounter.

i smiled, because i wanted to see him try. 

* * *

it continued with a second chance encounter,

on a sunny park bench.

i had come out of the library bleary eyed and frustrated,

after waiting some time to hear back from a school mate - but to no avail.

the sun was bright, and the air was warm.

it was spring.

i saw you sitting on a bench with your headphones in, your nose in a book, and a significant sized cup of tea to your left.

you didn't see me as i walked up to you and kicked at the toe of your shoe,

your cute shoe.

you didn't hear me as i said "hey, stranger" rushedly, before you took your headphones out.

"hey" you said, 

unbelievably calm, and unbelievably comfortable in your being. 

last time we had met it was you who were uncomfortable and i unbelievably calm in my being.

but this time, it felt reversed.

you moved your paper cup off the spot on the park bench beside you;

an obvious gesture that i was welcome to sit beside you.

i didn't.

not that i didn't want to,

but because i was uncomfortable with being uncomfortable with my being.

"what cha reading?" i said, nodding to the worn, used, perfect book in your hands.

you said a title i can't recall at this moment. 

"what's it about?"

you told me.

"it's a book about a black man in the federal state prison, and his experiences."

i nodded, 

"it's supposedly a cult classic," you continued

"what class is it for?" 

"it's not." you said.

i stopped. i smiled. i tried to catch my breath.

i don't know if you noticed the smile that came to my face involuntarily,

if you did, you didn't comment.

"you read smart books for pleasure?" i said, smirking.

"smart, but painful books." you said.

i smiled again.

at least i think i did.

i can't recall.

but i must've. 

i must've, because a man in cute shoes, who drinks tea on a park bench while reading a smart book for pleasure, deserves all the smiles in the world.

i said that you must be having a really lovely afternoon, you said you were.

you asked about mine.

i replied with a morose comment on the amount of homework i was doing, and how it all feels like it has come crashing down around me at once. 

"it's crunch time," i said.

"yes." you agreed. 

we said some other jargon, i can't recall, and then we parted ways.

you, retuning to your book.

me, returning to the thoughts of regret of not sitting down on that park bench beside you.