How Do You Enter A Circle?

Cold Springs Park, Newton, circa 2015

Cold Springs Park, Newton, circa 2015

Having just arrived at the local farmer’s market, an unexpected encounter gave me pause. Near closing time, grocery bags tucked under my arm, I checked the first produce stand on my right. The corn was spare and picked over. Across the way, I was tempted by a basket piled high with popovers. Marv and I are trying to low-ball the carbs so I passed it by when a casual friend’s lilting voice stopped me.

“Faye, I just finished. My bags are full.” Noticing my empty bags, her eyebrows arched with question, she continued, “You start out this way?”

She stood too close; her comment, so direct and hinting with puzzling insinuation, caught me off guard.

“Yes. I check out what’s available, then go round again,” I explained.

It was a hurried but sufficient reply to mask my confusion. She opened her bag to show me her “wonderful” choices: the bright, just-picked-from-the-garden carrots, a few stemmed apples, fresh goat cheese. We smiled and bid farewell—on the surface, a friendly conversation.

But her tone left me unsettled. On this bucolic afternoon, a place of gastronomic bounty where adults chatted with vendors, children held dripping ice cream cones, was there a right way to proceed? There were no arrows, no visible stall numbers. The circle follows a corner of the park’s paved road. The entry point I chose ran parallel to the street, curves around to face woods, then runs straight before the turn to the second opening.

What was her point and why did I care? Her lilting tone masked judgment, implied disapproval. Her attention to my empty bags, my choice to enter her point of exit, was reminiscent of past unbidden encounters with females, who felt they needed to set me straight about my priorities. I was as an overweight girl struggling with body image, trying to fit in, often the recipient of vexing “I’m telling you this for your own good” comments.

I am grateful for the perspective that comes with maturity, the choice to be curious rather than sensitive. I wondered what determined my choice that day? Because I had parked close to the vendors, I walked alongside exiting traffic and entered the circle in the counter-clockwise position. Had I parked farther away, for safety’s sake, I would have faced arriving cars and entered at the forward clock-wise point. My choice depended on chance and pragmatics.

All these years later, I’m mindful of that moment when, as I teen, I resolved to choose friends who liked me for who I was rather than for my appearance. In time, I surrounded myself with individuals who shared similar values of appreciation and kindness. So it is with how I choose my vendors.

I prefer organic growers, like Tom, the husband of a writer friend, who is dedicated to an environmentally safe ethic. He often takes time to chat and introduce me to new products like last week’s round lemon cucumber with its crisp, explosive taste. His miniature orange tomatoes are the sweetest.



10 thoughts on “How Do You Enter A Circle?

  1. Mary Beth Pope

    Love this, Faye. And I actually never know how to enter that farm market either! But I love what you do with your friend’s question and where it takes you in this essay.

    1. fayewriter Post author

      I smiled when I read your comment re: the confusion of two entrances and how, given the incident, the metaphor was so compelling. Thanks for adding to my perspective!

  2. sheila

    Amazing how current cues, a tone or a look, a word can quickly trigger memories and feelings of
    the past. You learn if you’re lucky to stay away or run from those people and places.

    1. fayewriter Post author

      Timing, luck, yes and when it’s unexpected, the mindfulness to consider rather than react.

  3. Heather

    Everyone has a different path; each person’s journey is unique. The world would be much sweeter if we recognized and respected that everyone enters the circle at a point that’s right for her. Great post!

  4. Pat

    Faye…this seems to be a piece that reflects your years of working with folks and helping them to understand their triggers to a seemingly benign situation that leaves one feeling unsettled and even shamed. Then yes, the wisdom and maturity to stop and notice what became unleashed inside. It resonated for me around vulnerability as I venture into my new career as yoga teacher and fearful someone will point out that I “entered the wrong way”.
    Thank you for this so carefully crafted.

    1. fayewriter Post author

      I so appreciate your comments, and especially how this story resonated with your career transition. Given your years of experience as a therapist and the many dedicated and effort-filled hours of yoga training, I can only imagine the multiple points of entry you have in your new and exciting chosen field.

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