And as these two strangers moved past, they greeted each other, just a simple greeting. A remark about the sun in the sky. One of them said something to the other, they exchanged smiles, and then the moment was gone. […] Was this some kind of love? I wanted to follow them, to touch them, to tell them of my happiness. I wanted to whisper to them: “This is it, this is it.”*
When we give something, we are offering to play.
An item, a question, an action, a gesture.
Then we wait. We wait to see if the other will play. If they will receive this and enter into the game that life seems to be made of.
(*The character “Nephew” in Alan Lightman’s Mr g – a story about creation.)