David arrived at the North Café early enough to intercept the woman, explain, and then be on his way if things seemed too… strange. She wasn’t there, so he asked to be seated in the last booth by the windows.
He glanced up at the clock. Less than two minutes later, he did it again. He was sitting in the last booth, his leg jumping as if it were on batteries. His server was faithfully refilling coffee while someone out of sight was steadily mopping the floor, cleaning the morning rush away.
Exactly four minutes and one cup of coffee later, he glanced up to see an elderly man walk in, glance about the small room, and look right at him. Even with the dishes clanking in the kitchen and the sloshing noise from the nearby mop, David could hear the man faintly whistling as he walked toward him.
David glanced up at the clock again to note that the host was right on time. As expected. But this pillar of the community was not at all what he expected.
David knew this man was one of the most successful of his generation. He owned large tracts of property and had long ago sold several businesses that started locally but quickly expanded around the world. His mind’s eye had painted a vivid picture of a man dressed impeccably, shoes shined brightly, trousers neatly pressed, with a small handkerchief peeking out of a tailored sport coat.
Instead, the Old Man was dressed casually in faded jeans and worn loafers, with an unshaven face and a nondescript shirt. The only thing that hinted at his wealth was his watch, though David was unable to discern the make and model with only a furtive glance as the man took the seat opposite him.
The Old Man smiled and looked across the table with piercing eyes that seemed to probe deep, searching, not judging, but evaluating, as if with a look he could conduct due diligence and know everything there was to know. It was a look David didn’t expect and, catching him off guard, David moved his own gaze elsewhere, shifting in his seat. Perhaps there was something to this more interesting than money.
“I’m so glad to meet you and am so glad you are here this morning. I knew you would come,” the Old Man began with a smile that was bright and genuine.
David found himself under the seemingly all-seeing gaze in the Old Man’s booth. There was still no sign of the beautiful young lady from the park. All of the lines he had rehearsed to explain his presence were useless now.
The Old Man, now comfortably in his seat, looked back across the table and repeated himself. “Yes, indeed, I knew you would come.”
“Uh, sorry?” David said, adding, “I think you may be mistaken. You see, I… I… I was helping someone who dropped some papers and I… I…” He trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say next and thinking that he sounded two steps from a mental health facility.
“Young man, everything happens for a reason. And I am glad that you found the invitation and made it here today. It was for you.”
“Invitation? Me? No, I just found it, and I was curious. About the nine mistakes?”
“Yes, but you cannot possibly understand that right now. Don’t rush right into it. There will be time.”
The server appeared at the table, and the Old Man grasped his hand warmly and smiled. They were apparently close friends.
“The usual?” the server asked, filling up a coffee cup and nodding back to someone behind the counter.
“You know me too well. And what would you like?” the Old Man asked David as he rummaged through the bag at his side.
“I’ll take the Continental,” David said, after admiring the menu’s description.
David looked across the table at this successful man who didn’t seem surprised at his presence and was acting not only as if this was normal but also as if it was completely expected. At the very least, he figured, he would have a nice breakfast and say he had met the Old Man. His family would want to know all about it, and he already was wondering how he would explain it. But David realized he needed more from this chance encounter. He needed answers, a way out of the trap of his life. He needed a direction, almost any direction, just a bit of guidance to lift him out of the heaviness that surrounded him lately.
The Old Man pulled out a small leather book. It was obviously old. In fact, it was so weathered David wouldn’t have been surprised if it was at least one hundred years old. The Old Man caressed it, then, holding it to his chest, smiled as if he were holding a grandchild and showering the kid with love. He pulled reading glasses from his pocket, then flipped open the first page.
“Ah, forgive me. I get excited every time I have the chance to share this. It is very special to me. But before I do, tell me all about you.”
David was normally somewhat reserved with strangers. He would usually start with his job title, his company, and maybe throw in where he went to college. For some reason, that all seemed so trivial in the presence of the Old Man. So he started in a different place. He began telling the Old Man about where he grew up, how he grew up, his siblings, his parents, his dreams, his hopes. The Old Man listened intently and sincerely, asking questions, genuinely wanting to know more.
At one point, the Old Man interrupted, sensing something. “I need to ask you. What are you so afraid of?”
The question felt like a boxer’s unexpected knockout punch. David felt his throat constrict. He tried to talk, but it felt like he was choking, so he took a drink of water and tried to regain his composure. He was trying so desperately to be honest, but with a positive spin on everything. After all, he was hoping to impress the Old Man and gain a powerful ally. Internally, he was in turmoil. He just didn’t want to admit what was really going on in his life.
It seemed like minutes were going by, but the Old Man said nothing and acted completely at ease with the silence that had settled between them. It was like he knew that David was trying to formulate the right words.
Finally, David relented, though he felt like the umpire had already called him out and declared this battle lost. He decided to share more of the story. It was difficult to start, but, once he did, he felt the freedom to express his deepest thoughts. It was like a dam that, unable to hold the raging waters back a moment longer, had finally broken: his mother’s health challenges, the expectations of his family, his unfair boss and the frightening warning, the struggles at work, the bills piled on the counter, numbers glaring at him ominously in red ink, the expectations he had for himself, how he wanted to perform well, and how he just couldn’t disappoint his family.
All of it, now out, hanging in the air. With each revelation, David felt a weight lifting off of himself. For better or worse, he couldn’t stop sharing.
The Old Man listened intently. He asked a few more questions. None of it seemed to surprise him. “Thank you,” said the Old Man. “I know where you are. I have walked the path you are on.” The Old Man’s head was nodding ever so slightly. His probing eyes left for just a second, drifting somewhere else. “Tell me more.” And with that, David continued his story.
Before David realized it, the server had cleared the dishes from the table, and the Old Man had paid the check. David had mindlessly been eating while talking and, switching from his fears, David shared some of his deepest hopes for the future. Though the details of where he wanted his personal and professional life seemed clear to him as he spoke, he realized that the specifics weren’t important. All he really wanted was to feel in control, fulfilling his purpose, and making a real difference.
The Old Man sat back in the booth, took a deep breath, and smiled in a way that warmed the room, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. “Do you think you are ready?”
“I guess so. Maybe I need a notepad.”
“Not that kind of ready. The beginning is when you have more questions than answers. Readiness is when your desire is stronger than your distraction.”
David smiled and replied, “I don’t know if all of that is true, but you have my attention. What do you think?”
In a more serious tone, the Old Man continued, “I believe you are in a perfect state of mind to learn these lessons. If you really are committed to this process, I believe it will transform your thinking—and your life. Well, what do you say?”
David didn’t quite know how to respond. He wasn’t sure where this was going, and his mind began to wonder again what he was doing here and why he had shared all of this personal information.
“Well, say yes or no. And I hope you say yes.”
“What am I saying yes to, exactly?” David said, his left eye squinting.
“To studying the nine mistakes,” the Old Man said in an almost bewildered, slightly chiding tone, as if David was completely and utterly lost. “If you want the things you say you do, you need to learn these mistakes. If you’re looking to escape your current situation, I know of no other way.”
“I’ve enjoyed this time with you. I appreciate you listening to my hopes and my problems, though I’m still somewhat confused about how and why you expected me. I feel like maybe I hit my head and this isn’t real. But I am curious. Yes, I would very much like to know the nine mistakes. Actually, I feel like I need to know them. What are they?”
The Old Man laughed. Not a casual laugh, but a deep belly laugh that reverberated throughout the corner of the café and surrounded them. It was warm, sincere, and infectious. Before he realized it, David was also laughing. And it felt good.
“Why are we laughing?” David managed to get out as the infectious laughter continued, releasing built up emotion.
“Do you think I can just hand them over to you? I suppose I could.” The Old Man’s hands brushed his whiskers, then moved to caress the book. “But the power wouldn’t be there. I’m not sure it would even work.” His eyes moved to the book, and he seemed lost in a distant thought. “It’s funny, there have been people trying to steal this book for hundreds of years. They think to possess the book itself is to have its power, or perhaps that the secrets are just in the words on the page. That isn’t the case at all. Still others specialize in criticism over creation. Whenever there is positive power, you will find naysayers and hope squelchers that want to destroy someone else’s dreams. And so each generation must find a way to keep the wisdom safe and the dreams within our hearts protected.”
The server appeared, gave a knowing half smile, and filled the Old Man’s coffee cup one final time. The Old Man looked down at his cup, which was practically overflowing.
“This cup is full and so are you. Before you can absorb each lesson, you need to have room in your cup. You need to absorb each one,” the Old Man said, as he swallowed down a large gulp of steaming java. “So we need to share each lesson in a way that you can get it.”
Compared with David’s sharing of his life’s dreams throughout the meal, the Old Man hadn’t really said that much, but now he was fully engaged and ready to talk. “Knowledge arrives in loud bursts, but wisdom only speaks in silence. Acceptance of the new is possible only with space from the old. If you don’t take time to discard the unnecessary, you will have no room for what matters.”
Then, reflecting quietly, the Old Man nodded almost imperceptibly, as if agreeing with an internal voice. “If you are committed to learning them, then we will teach them to you.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. I’m not exactly the best person to teach them.”
“When do we begin?” David asked. He heard one voice asking the Old Man about when to begin and what to expect while also hearing an internal voice asking if he was insane, if he knew what he was doing, and how he would explain this to anyone.
“Often we are on a path before our conscious minds realize it. We have already begun,” the Old Man said. He was putting on his coat and already shuffling to the door.
“Wait, you don’t even have my number!” David said, following him, curious and insistent.
“You have no idea the journey you are about to take. Now that it has started, almost nothing can stop it. In fact, the teachers will appear at just the right time and in the most unlikely and unusual places. I wish I could be there myself. You’ll have a rendezvous soon!”
And with that, the Old Man seemed to vanish along the busy street, leaving David standing awkwardly in the doorway. David put on his own jacket and glanced up and down the street, but didn’t see him anywhere.
Somehow David must have missed the Old Man slipping a piece of weathered paper into his hands. He looked at the writing, and, after reading it, carefully tucked the message into his pocket.