It’s Saturday morning at about 9am. I’m in the chemistry lab, a sterile looking room with 12 workstations that are like multi level kitchen islands with sinks and various lab gear. It’s the most fluorescently lit environment on earth and everything looks to be either white, stainless steel or glass.

I’m one of the two students in the lab this morning, so I’ve taken two stations at the far end of the room and I’m performing two experiments at once, I mean, why not get ahead?

Before I start a lab, I do a ‘cutsheet,’ It’s something I learned from my sister, Annick. The cutsheet lists every piece of equipment I’ll use (like a magnetic stirrer), every step I’ll perform (control the atmosphere), every safety measure I need to take (fume hoods), every chemical I will use (for instance alkyl halide in 0.1 concentration) and what my results should be. This is all more-or-less textbook - but I still hand-write it out myself.

It’s a quiet environment, I have my AirPods in and I’m listening to cello music - it’s relaxing. I’m performing two variations of nucleophilic substitution reactions - creating new carbon-carbon bonds. It’s Pretty standard stuff and I’m at the stage, in both experiments, where I combine reagents. When suddenly, a TA (teaching assistant) is stooping over my hunched, left shoulder.
“What do you have there?” He asked - let’s call him Lewis. I flinched. Ok, I jumped.

Lewis’ breaking the silence was sudden and intrusive. I hadn’t noticed him prowling about and for a moment I was flummoxed. I tapped my AirPods to stop the music.

This was irritating. See, anything I would say to him would sound like a child talking to an adult. He’s a doctoral student and to him what I’m doing is stupidly simple, like stacking blocks, but he’s put me in that position.

“I’m doing both variations of (problem set/homework) problem 5,” I motioned to the other station, “and I’m ready to introduce the Grignard reagent,” I couldn’t help a note of cringy defiance creeping into my tone, like a child expecting to be reprimanded.

“Are you..,” he started to say, I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to sound like an interrogation.
But I read his mind, adding, “I’m using anhydrous conditions and an ethereal solvent,” this time I said it like it should be obvious—and again I sounded childish and brittle (like an ignoramus)—to myself anyway—but I was at a loss. ‘God, I really need to be less defensive,’ I thought, mortified. I hate looking dumb.

He nodded his head, he’d been looking over my cutsheet. I gave him an upturned, sideways glance. Was he going to stand around observing or worse yet micro-manage me?
“Very good,” he pronounced, tapping my cutsheet lightly with an index finger, “carry on.”

He walked away, off to bother the other student, I hoped. Better him than me. I had work to do. I tapped my music back on, looking at my cutsheet.
Where was I?
.
.
Songs for this:
Havana by Brooklyn Duo
Carnival of the Animals: XIII. The Swan by Yo-Yo Ma & Kathryn Stott

The reason for existence, I don’t know,
For life I am already tired.
From so much disdain to find,
In a gaze, the judging.

I move forward, between encounters
And life's disconnections,
Waiting for someone,
Who, in solidarity, understands me,
Without judgment, but with joy,
For the simple feeling of another.

The feeling is uncertain, fickle,
Reason, many times, certain
Until the opposite becomes clear,
Thus, we know little,
Except what is likely.
And we move forward, waiting,
To discover the improbable,
In the sighs and existences of others.

I don’t think there’s a God except
  I’ve sometimes felt Transcendence.

I might believe in God except
  When we’re alone, we’re wired to project,

To think that someone’s over there
  Somewhere that we can’t see. Except:

We don’t see sound and we don’t hear light
  However loud, however bright,
 
So maybe it’s perception,
  Not projection,

One more connection,
   Outside of space and time,

One more direction,
  At right angles to the rest.

And when we turn down light and sound,
  And wait with no one else around,

Then reach out with a quiet mind,
  Perhaps it’s really God we find.

Up on the mountain he took them: Peter John and James
And before their very eyes, their Jesus was changed
His clothes became the most dazzling white
A cloud came in and they fell down in utter fright
The true weight of God's Glory came upon them that day
As Jesus went up to the mountain to pray
The disciples were given a special peek
Something to give them strength when they were weak
It was hope, it was light, and it was profound peace
In praying, that which we receive down on our knees
We are transformed with Christ; made new and clean
And while we may never have this very scene
We can have a similar experience and feel the glory
We can, today, share in this great Gospel story
We can adore and, like candles, burn in his presence
A gift for the greatest and least, for kings and for peasants

Lord, some days we can't see you because of the shadow, and sometimes we are blinded because you are so close to us. Most of us have been blessed to have Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind and felt the weight of your glory. The pure power of the energy and love in that moment is like a nuclear reactor. We become radioactive and sometimes even positively glow from the experience. Though it may be forgotten at times, it is still in us. In our darkest moments, help us call to mind this sunshine and cast away the doubt and fear. In your goodness, you have given us this hope of resurrection that we are longing for on Easter Sunday while we wander through the desert of trial and temptation for these forty days to obtain the true conversion and transformation. Thank you, Lord, for Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind that bring us into the light of your presence and the weight of your glory! Amen.

i have been with you
                      a long time in my head
  
Once

you are near
                       my mind is clear
  
Blast!
Your look is assurance

i sense your gaze
i am old enough
                to not be careless
i fall back into place
i must hit the road
                to play ignorance

You are good
You are good
(eye to eye)

inner susurration:
i would trouble your path
 i would turbid your reason

                         You were forward to notice
                          the best possible situation




                                      Separation

today I drank my coffee alone
they sky was grey
it was neither hot nor cold
the cafe was noisy
and my latte was strong

today I briefly felt alive
a stranger talked to me
he was Hungarian,
but nice
we had a laugh
and I looked over his CV

today I was in town
and the barista smiled at me

my hair was messy
my brain was foggy
but we had a good time
I, my coffee and me.