Fromm

On some particular day, I was in the arboretum sitting on a wooden bridge without railings, that straddled a narrow neck at one end of a small pond, so that you could sit with you feet hanging just above the water and watch orange-red Koi carp swim by. The scene was filled with activity, of pigeons and various wild birds, and even possibly a Blue Heron, that was sometimes down at the other end. It was sunny, blue sky, warm, around noon, and crowded with people, since in those days, it was as if every day was Sunday, with many visitors, a mixture of locals, tourists and hippies, some out for a lunch break.

I had noticed an elderly man, because he was overly dressed, sitting on a bench, just near to the bridge. I was perhaps gazing into the water or following a flight of birds. Suddenly I heard a voice from someone standing behind me.
"I don't understand you. You sit here and do nothing. Why do you just sit there? Why don't you do something? Some of us are doing things. Some of us are trying. I can tell you I am a famous psychoanalyst and I am trying. I am doing something. Many of us are trying. Many of us are doing things. We are doing something."

Apparently he took me for a token hippy. I was thinking fast. Why do I just sit here? What am I doing here? Why do I do nothing but spend my days in Golden Gate Park? I had no immediate answer but I was thinking, trying to come up with something. Then I had it. I turned to say, "What is it you think I should be doing?", but he was not there.

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