Yesterday I saw the most amazing thing that stopped me dead in my tracks. I had just left my flag football game and was running to catch the 6 train on 59th street. I had my iPod head phone on one hear, and my cell to the other as I was trying to make brunch plans before I lost phone reception on the subway. When I saw the man in front of me, I stopped. "Shannon, hold on one sec," I said on the phone as I just stood and watched the man a few feet infront of me.
He was using a newspaper as a mat as he knelt and prayed. He was clearly Muslim and it was his daily time to pray. He was just outside Bloomingdale's, kneeling, praying, kissing the ground, then would repeat the process. He was totally and fully engaged in his time of worship and nothing affected him during this time of meditation. Tourist walked around him and stared. They looked at him like he was insane for worshiping his god in public. I saw the same look in their eyes that I give to crazy homeless people that invade my personal space. It's the scared, you're gross, don't touch me I don't want to catch your disease, look.
This man's actions touched my heart. I can't remember the last time I saw someone drop what they were doing and worship openly in public because they felt it was the right thing to do. This man didn't care what people thought about him, or that he only had a newspaper to pray on, or that he was knelling next to a dirty hot dog stand. He wasn't obnoxious, loud, or insensitive to the people around him, he simply wanted quality time with his god and nothing was going to stand in his way.
It was stimulating to see someone passionate about his beliefs in the middle of a hectic city. I'm sure people could argue all day that his beliefs are false and his actions are a waste of time. But above all else, he is passionate. He is doing what he believes in by loving his god. He has dropped everything worldly and stopped to acknowledge what is important to him.
I turned my iPod off and pulled out my ear phones. I hung up the phone realizing I could be late for brunch. I leaned against Bloomingdale's still in my football jersey and soaked in the scene.
The man finished praying, kissed the ground one last time then stood and turned back to his hot dog stand.
I continued to watch him; admiring the man that made me re-evaluate my "busy day."
That's why I love this city. Just when you think you have your life together, a hot dog vender will set you straight.
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