On my commute in to work, I have one fairly important subway - bus transfer. If I don't make it, it adds about 6 long blocks to my walk, which is not always a bad thing, but today I was in the mood to bus it. As I climbed the stairs out of the subway, my head cleared ground-level and I saw the bus pulling into the stop across the street. I made a dash for it, realizing that I'm starting to look like an old man when I run. The crowd was too thick and the bus pulled away just as I got to it. Cursing my luck, I set off for the long walk, slightly comforted by the Radiohead playing on my ears.

Just as I started getting going, I heard a woman calling for help just barely audible over the music. I turned and noticed she was blind and I walked over and asked what I could do. Turns out she was looking for a restaurant so I ended up walking her there. As we walked, I described the shops we were passing. We made it to the restaurant and she went inside and it felt like I'd been given a gift for the day. I suppose you could argue that my 'problem' of missing the bus was insignificant to the person who's almost completely reliant on other people to help her get around, and you'd be right in that argument. Perhaps that played a part. I think the experience forced me to slow down and experience life through the metaphoric eyes of another.