I am strangely addicted to other people's open windows.
Commuting from house to work takes 2 hours. In that span of time, I often find amusement in watching the other passengers of the bus or FX. But then again --- this could get old pretty fast. My second line of defense against boredom is to look out the window. I love it everytime we pass residential areas, especially at night. Sometimes, I'll chance upon an open window illuminated by indoor lighting and it allows me to see beyond the concrete walls. Often times I get sucked into the lives being lived within.
It jumpstarts my soul to imagine how they exist inside their houses. Every window I see lends me sight into a different life. Happy, sad, miserable, quiet, contented...
Once, I saw 2 little boys inside their bedroom playing and hitting each other with their pillows.
Another time, I saw a little girl hugging an old man, probably her grandfather.
I saw a man and a woman kissing.
I saw a man with nothing on but a towel around his waist reading the newspaper while standing.
I saw maids hard at work.
I saw kitchen tables laden with gorgeous food.
I saw a room empty as a Spartan's cell.
I saw countless crosses, pictures of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Divine Mercy, Twin Hearts of Jesus and Mary and huge, wooden rosaries.
I saw pictures of teen idols, presidents, and pandas posted on the wall.
And the sight I loved most of all --- rooms full of books and shelves and mysteries that beckon.
I love open windows if only because it affirms me that people are living their lives everywhere the way they know how. It tickles my brains, it provides me with other-seeing --- a focus on others and a reminder that I am not the center of the universe. Oddly, that comforts more than it disconcerts me.
The next time you open your window, think of me, the hungry observer, hungry for life. No need to be scared. I just peruse after all. Hoping that in the midst of all that living, I'll find ways to live mine too.