It was the Glow, the vibrating hum of immediate, pulsing life.
There's a young woman who has the glow who rides my 3/4 into town. She's a high school student. I kind of hope she doesn't read this, because I don't want her to feel self-conscious. Would it really do any good to tell her she has the Glow? Who knows. We can only bask in it and learn from it.
You get the impression of life lived without pretense; she usually travels with an entourage of friends, but today she is alone. We sat up front and talked, and more than the particulars of the conversation, I remember the tone and timbre of the voices, and the sensation of light.
It was her birthday, and she was excited. I had worked out some personal stuff in my own life, and thus felt excited as well. Both of us, generating great energy for different reasons... ebullient, vivacious, life-giving conversation. We blew up. She showed me her drawings, a few on her phone, tremendous even at that small size; we talk about art, other bus drivers, classical music, stretching, and who knows what else. Energy, bubbling out through both of us, making all things new.
I'm reminded of the opening lines from a favorite film of mine: "I don't want to be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me."
Further reading: The Glow II.