Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow

It’s one of those days, you know the days that seem like all the others? 

So I’m driving into a shopping centre car park, and an old man crosses the road in front of me. The man - white wispy hair, crotchety and bent over - takes no notice of my approaching car…  I think it strange that he walks in front of me but lost in my own thoughts at the end of a busy day, I merely steer around him and park the car.

Before I know it, he is standing next to my car, a little too close for comfort. His piercing blue eyes hold my stare and capture my thoughts.

“Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow”, he says, with a clarity and firmness uncharacteristic of a man his age.

I look around – no one else seems to notice this man. Why is he talking to me? He looks at me again, eyes focussed and shining intensely.

“Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow”, he says.

I stop, my heart skipping a beat. What is he talking about? I sit lost in my own thoughts for nothing more than a few moments, and then a car behind me honks its horn bringing me back to ‘reality’. The man is gone – I wonder how he could move so fast after standing next to me just a few moments ago? I lock the car in a hurry, and run into the shopping centre looking for the man.

As with many matters of the spirit, it takes a while for the practical mind to comprehend what has happened. I’m not saying I understand it even now, but it takes a little while to sink in and metabolise a moment when destiny knocks. Spirit had tapped me on the shoulder - as I stood looking at the man with the piercing blue eyes, old and frail as he was, I saw myself. I saw my own age catching up with me, his words 'Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow' ringing through my consciousness like a herald call.

Where am I?

What am I doing?

Why am I doing it?

My heart screams out for me to listen. My head asks questions and seeks a rational answer. My body is buzzing, knowing that deep truth is being spoken. I ponder deeply. 

Before long, I find myself back at home, unaware of where the past 45 minutes had gone. I walk inside and stand looking at the mirror. Familiar piercing blue eyes hold my gaze.