8. A Smile Is A Question

Sometimes when I wander, I see you. You are absorbed in your existence, in all of the things you perceive and feel and think. This is the whole of your experience; it is everything for you. That I too am here, living a separate experience, is not evident to you, for you have not noticed me.

But then you look up. Your eyes meet mine and your experience changes, and my experience changes, and the two become one: this moment becomes our experience. This new shared experience, this previously non-existent entity, is a powerful one. It arrives sharply and with a surprising intensity. How could this thing that did not even exist a moment ago have us so firmly in its grasp?

But it holds us completely, and it exists simply by my eyes seeing yours and your eyes seeing mine. It exists and its existence is a minor shock to our senses, evoking in us a mysterious but pleasant tingle.

A slight smile forms on your face as you realize what is happening. The smile becomes part of our experience. It is a message. A question is being posed and a response must be given. Not for any moral reason. Not for any reason at all. Only because the joy of the moment demands it. And so there is no uncertainty in what must follow, no doubt about what I must do.

I smile back at you.