This week, while I was drinking coffee at my neighborhood coffee shop, I noticed an older woman take a seat at the table next to mine. I looked up to greet her-this is a friendly place-but she made no eye contact. She seemed absorbed in her thoughts. I resumed my studying.
A few minutes later the waitress brought her a salad. It was then that I noticed the tremor gripping both her hands. It worsened as she unwrapped the knife and fork from the napkin. Her focus on this task was palpable. In her left hand she also held tightly onto a white sheet of paper with black typeface that she has been reading before the arrival of her lunch. “Coping strategies for an essential tremor” .
In that instant, a wave of compassion came over me. I admired her bravery to seek help and perform activities in public that challenged her dexterity. I felt small to have questioned, even briefly, why she did not greet me. Maybe her energy was focused on sitting down without spilling her drink and hoping her condition will improve?
I am reminded of a quote by the Buddhist meditation teacher, Joseph Goldstein: “Anything can happen anytime, and I am not exempt” A day without physical discomfort is a gift to be cherished.