Ruminations at the Car Boot Sale

The too early Sunday morn dashing its chill upon us’s two wrapt in warm knee length coats with words of mist coming from our chatter, she and I at an open-air Car Boot Sale Market beside a pristine, glistening river way, way too early.

Slowly lookers arriving, strolling up and on by, touching our wares, chatting, buying or not, all glad to be there, together.

Her, the loverly Nikkyea, my implicit adopted daughter nd I, the ‘No. 1 Witty Public Nuisance of Wherever I Am’ dancing through the morning. That’s me gleefully greeting those around us, with many a ‘Morning young man, young lady’, (that’s to every age from 40 to 100) … immediately a direct eye sparkle into mine, always a heart smile of amusement, they and I coming together to swap the fun of the moment, and us always parting smilingly easily.

Or parents with wee little ones in prams or in arms, informing them, “you think you gave birth to a baby, but no you gave birth to a faery,” then turning and speaking/singing gobblydeegook to the faery,  ‘nd the little cherab easily grinning, a waving of arms, then us all cheerfully thanking each other for sharing.

“Oh how radiant you both are.”  She, silver hair aflow, make-up most delicate, a soft dash of lippy, stylish gold earrings, nail polish.  He, shaven head, soft brown casual clothes, open and smiling. A tender loveliness between them.

“Can I ask how old you are?”

With tender pride, her “We’re both 85.”

Me, “Nd still holding hands I see.”

Them, an intimate glance into each other.

Me, “How long have you been married.”

In unison, them, “45 years,” and he telling me of their continued deep love for each other.


As we turned to separate, She, “We don’t ever tell or show anyone this but to you I want to. About six months ago while in Hongkong we did this”  and with that same soft pride easily pulled her shirt down enough to reveal his name tattooed above her heart, and he doing the same, showing me her name tattooed above his heart…the three of us just, just, just glad to be together in that specific moment.  Us holding each other gladly…nd then away to our lives.

A couple, say 45ish, between them holding the hands of a dark haired, brown eyed young boy, say 10ish, walking ganglishingly, slooping difficultly.  Me, bending down to this one, disabled, both physically and mentally “Morning little one. So nice to see you here. Welcome.”  For a moment, a brief moment he and I seeing each other clearly, from in him somewhere, a smile arising. The young one then beginning to wail unsuredly, already turning closer to his dad, there being held securely, kindly. To the parents, softly, “Thank you for bringing him out into the sunshine, in amongst us all, giving us some awareness. With deep respect, I thank you both.”  The three walking on, me going back to our stall.

Then maybe 10-15 minutes later, the young lad’s father coming back, finding me.  “I want to thank you so much for coming to us, for sharing in our son.” Me, gladdened by his words, “How is it for you both?”  The father, “The boy is so full of love, so giving, it is amazing.” Us both, on the spot, holding each other in the sharing.

Without doubt it was a blessing and later alone and at home I recalled many years beforehand in Bodhgaya with my teacher, we pilgrims all circumambulating the Big Stupa. In amongst the crowded sacred stupa was a man bout 20ish, with no legs below his knee caps, standing upright on a decrepit skateboard, smiling, as he held out a bowl for alms. Me, there giving him money when Rinpoche came from behind. “Robyn,” he said sternly, “don’t think you’re doing this man any favours.” I looked questioningly at Rinpoche, surprised at his statement.  “No,” he went on, “just remember that this one has given up an entire life time to show you how fortunate you are.”

Each day I feel the blessedness of just being, of Mother Nature, and I celebrate in the extraordinary nature of us humans, the continuous sparkle that we emit to each other, the beauty of it all.