January First Clown
The story below is about a wonderfully ridiculous and insignificant scene that came back to me in its deeper meaning and essence when I told it to a friend recently.
It is January First of 2021, I am on my way to Limantour Beach to celebrate my mother’s fifth death day. I stop in Point Reyes Station to pick up some food. Walking down the sidewalk ready to cross the street, I see a guy loudly shouting, gesturing and talking at people in a theatrical manner – clearly he is “high.” For a split second I am tempted to discard him as crazy or a nuisance, but then I feel the inexplicable pull to enjoy his outlandish style of holding forth like a fool. I just can’t refuse his clownish enthusiasm, smiling to myself inwardly, I send him silent well-wishes. After all it is a special day.
When I come back from the store, he gestures from across the street, pointedly addressing me: “Lady, I saw that, yeah you – keep that smile, beautiful… yeah, so beautiful.” He goes on with more that I don’t remember. But obviously he is in a state where he can see the invisible. He felt my inner delight of and for him. I turn and wave, walking backwards, now smiling broadly – outwardly. My steps take on even more of a swing, and he keeps hollering after me. He is tuned in, appreciative. Two people now dancing in the street on a sober January first. Happily I feel called out. How many times have I been a fool, an outsider, a provocateur, voluntarily as an actress in the theater, but also often by accident. I swirl around a last time, arms waving... smiling like a fool before turning the corner.
Sometimes we are saved from our own defended-ness, callousness, unwillingness to pay attention, and the need to discard someone else. Recounting the story to my friend, I name the guy January First Clown. Is he a lost “down & out” character, a Trickster, or perhaps a King? In his Shakespearean manner he calls me out on my hidden smile, which I have not yet shared outwardly on the first day of a new year. And it is precisely this that highlights how loud our inner hidden thoughts and feelings really are. How they radiate out and affect all around us. Acting crazy, the January First Clown brings my secret well-wishing to light – inadvertently we give each other a gift. May we dare to share delight.
Original art by Jutta Epperlein, Regensburg, Germany, ca. 1970
My mother Jutta was a fan of fools, clowns, witches, angels, outsiders. The Hampelmann has a pair of dangling legs, and a stream of tears is running from the inner corner of his left eye.... Me too – may we all cherish them!
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