Third Time is the Charm

Barely a year ago I had been traveling to Prospect Park with one of my spiritual colleagues to romp among the greenery for the afternoon. My companion introduced me to the healer; apparently they had met many times before. The healer remained silent for full duration of his ride, although the girl he was traveling with spoke briefly. They disembarked prior to our stop. My companion explained to me that he is a spiritual healer who can usually be found around Union Square. All one need do to find him is say his name. I wrote his name down in the notebook I carried with me, but did not retain it in my memory for more than a few days. I have since lost track of the notebook, though I know it is somewhere among my many identical notebooks. 

I saw him a second time sometime this past summer getting off a train at Union Square.

This morning I had a brief encounter with the healer on the L train. He boarded at Lorimer and started dancing in place. I recognized him immediately. He is a striking figure, perhaps 6'5", with a playful smile and rosy face, topped with a mop of dirty blond locks. He wore a pair of worn khakis on the back of one leg was painted "Healing is the new black" or something to that effect (I hadn't slept so my memory is failing me now). I tried my hardest not to stare at him though I could not suppress my intrigue. He continued to dance a little bit as we passed under the East River, and manipulated the energy in the air with hand gestures. I recognized what he was doing immediately because the last time I had tripped it was revealed to me that such a thing was not only possible but absurdly simple as well. We shared a smile and respectful nod of the head a few times, then he started talking to me. I removed my headphones, and realized he was asking me a question about the prayer beads I wore around my neck. We spoke briefly of how each bead represents a different sacred mantra, and how it might do subway riders some good to recite them. We shared a laugh. Before he exited at Third Avenue, he pressed his hands together before his sternum and bowed his head in peace and farewell. I return his nod and was left the rest of the day with a feeling of much needed recognition.