"Can I help you find anything?" he asks. "How 'bout the meaning of life?" I reply. Without hesitation, he tells me, "That's two aisles over, middle shelf, in a small can!"

I thought I'd cured myself of my chronic "foot-in-mouth-itis" -- that is, saying things to people based on assumption, being totally wrong, then feeling like a jerk. But alas, it lingers.

Driving, I'm like a bow being pulled across the strings. Now, I am in the rondo, the third movement, where things that used to matter don't and things that never mattered do; where the mundane appears vivid and even the simplest, most ordinary routines become holy.

I reach out to shake his hand, and he grips my forearm as I grip his. I go to my car and find a dollar in the tray, which I give to Ra, though never did he ask for it. As I drive out I see him mounting his bicycle, ready to ride on now that I'm safe.

Do too much watching and not enough experiencing, and you wind up looking in the window of life or the smart phone.

Her friends and family tried to guide her. But it was only through years of rich experience that she grasped the realities of life....