The sky looked menacing, so I ducked under the awning of a taberna, took a seat at a mesa a fuera, and ordered a copa de blanco.
The man at the next table looked over and asked if I lived here. Because “hablas español”. I chortled, and we got to chatting.
His name is Stewart. Australian, and traveling solo for his 50th birthday. He arrived from a week in Italy, and is starting a hopefully reflective Camino tomorrow.
Shortly after our intros, a thin young guy with a glass of red in hand walked over. He cried out “Ingles! Yes!” and joined our conversation. His name is Ravi. Brit-American, with the passports in his pockets to prove it. He just turned 30, works in Silicon Valley and is visiting a friend in Madrid.
*
Over a few hours and a few more copas, we got to really talking.
Ravi told us how dating has been entirely taken over by apps, but he did it because — “how else was I supposed to meet women?” But his cultural expectations-driven anxiety about not being married at this age has led him to agree to an arranged marriage. Because he wants to start a family sooner rather than later.
Stewart talked to us about how his first marriage ended, how he’s become more discerning in relationships, and how he’s learned to hold space for only the people that matter most to him.
Ravi talked about the work that he enjoys, and yet still can’t help comparing where he is against where his peers are.
Stewart shared how he wants to work less, accumulate less and actively downsize. “I don’t want to leave a burden for my children to sort through. Look at the Romans with their incredible villas! They couldn’t take anything with them!”
*
We realized the time. At a break in the rain, we thanked each other and went our separate ways: Ravi – to meet his friends and paint Madrid a fiery red. Stewart – to prepare for his early start to the pilgrimage tomorrow. And I – to write this little note of gratitude for these two strangers who represent both who I was and who I am becoming. Who show that we are all on the same natural arc: first, of an opening — of expanding outward, accumulating, building. And later, spurred usually by a crisis (or the sudden awareness of the accumulation of subtle losses), of a closing — contracting, releasing, and looking inward.
Each point on the this arc to be honored as part of the shape of Life.
Thank you all for the birthday greetings. It was a simple, ordinary, divine day.