ode to the lighthouse

The Rugby Poets Club Presents: "Chariot" by Joshua Bennett from Ralph Lauren on Vimeo.

I know what that's like

Mamihlapinatapai: "A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start.”.

                         -from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego,
                         considered the world's most succinct word and
                         considered one of the most difficult words to translate

A Salsa Story

Last night was taco night and Shadow and Ryan's place, a tradition Shadow and I have celebrated since our days back in Broome Street dorms. It's one of those nights you talk about months in advance, and never plan on a whim. If you're invited to a taco night, you come to that taco night. If you miss a taco night, you know you're missing out on a Core tradition.
Anyways, last night was the first taco night in a while, and we were excited. I picked up Shadow from work and on our way home we stopped by the grocery store to pick up some necessities: taco seasoning, sour cream, salsa, and mini tortillas (for the soft taco option). We walked into the store expecting to grab and go-- you know, a quick, casual trip so that we could get to assembling tacos as soon as possible. We had no idea what we were in for.
Sour cream was no problem-- we saw it and threw it in our cart right away. Same with the tortillas. But we soon became painfully aware that this would be no quick stop at the grocery store.
Our first hunt: taco seasoning. It was no where to be found! No where! Next to the beans? No. Next to the HARD SHELL TACOS? Nope. PERHAPS IN THE SEASONING AISLE? No cigar. Shadow and I began to panic, thinking, Oh god, there can be no tacos without taco seasoning, and there can be no taco night without tacos! And just as we began to hyperventilate in unison (as shadows do), I grabbed her by the shoulders and said, SHADOW, LOOK WITH YOUR HEART. LOOK WITH YOUR HEART FOR THE TACO SEASONING.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and started walking. She paced down an aisle we'd passed moment before, this way and that, and then, in a moment of clarity, looked up, up, above the ground meats and sausages, into a small, dark cubby above the refrigerated section, and ever-so-coolly plucked a packet of taco seasoning from the cubby.
I squealed. She looked with her heart, and she found the taco seasoning! She made it look so easy.
Now it was my turn. I was tasked with finding the salsa by looking with my heart. Simple enough: salsa, in my opinion, is probably one of the most commonly bought items at the grocery store, next to milk and bananas. Late night slumber party runs to the market always result in chips and dip, usually opened up on the car ride home. Supermarket Sweep contestants always threw salsa into their carts.
So, my job was easy: open my heart and find the salsa. While Shadow scanned the aisles for anything we had missed, looking with my heart, I started searching. And searching....and searching.
Words cannot express my dismay.
Here I was, trying to take my own advice, trying to look with my heart for the last ingredient to our perfect taco night, and I just couldn't. Couldn't find it. Totally lost.  It had been so easy for Shadow. So clear. But my heart vision clearly needed to be checked. I panicked. Was there something wrong with me? Was I just an idiot? Was I unlucky? Was I walking past it over and over, staring right at it, missing it? Shadow could see that I was swimming in the possibilities, so she decided to ask the store manager where they keep the salsa.
Shadow came back with the news: THEY DON'T CARRY SALSA. It wasn't my heart's farsightedness, afterall. I was just LOOKING FOR SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T EXIST. I felt even worse than before. Horrified and heavy-hearted, I slumped out of the store, with Shadow at my side trying her best to console me, begging me to not take this as an extended metaphor.
But how could I not? It was all so clear to me! I've been looking for Salsa my whole young adult life, and have been pacing up and down life's proverbial aisles, watching as all my friends open their hearts and find their taco seasonings. Here I am, worried about my heart's hazy vision, thinking I'm just passing it by, and even though what I'm looking for seems simple enough, maybe I'm just looking for something that The Grocery Store just doesn't carry.
I was still distressed when we got back to Shadow's place. Ryan greeted us as soon as we walked in, with fresh beers from the nearby store already in hand. As soon as I set my things down, I took one from him-- my only remedy. As soon as I did, he said, Oh, Foram! I have something for you.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a jar of curry-style salsa that he just happened to pick up from the store along with the beers. He had seen it while checking out and thought of me (as an important little Indian in his life). I was elated. He had no idea why.
I thanked him profusely, for bringing me my salsa, and for teaching me a lesson almost instantly. Maybe the whole point is that looking for my Salsa-- with my eyes or my heart-- will not do me any good if my Salsa just isn't around yet. I might be in the wrong place, or maybe it's just the wrong time, but when it comes down to it, with my nearsighted eyes and my farsighted heart wide open, my Salsa will find me.