A Pause at the Crosswalk

I was driving to work one morning when I saw a family stopped at the crosswalk near a popular breakfast restaurant right down the street from my house. I slowed down and stopped, expecting nothing more than a short pause before moving on with my day.

A family began to cross the street.

The dad carried one of the girls on his hip. The other girl held her mom’s hand as they walked together. The mom stayed close, matching her steps without rushing. They moved as a unit across to the other side.

In the car across from me sat an older man. He was alone, hands steady on the steering wheel, watching the family cross just like I was.

In that moment, I became aware of how life moves in stages.

The family represented a season of fullness and responsibility. Their days are likely busy, shaped by routines and small needs that never stop. This stage of life asks for constant attention and energy, even when it brings joy and connection.

Then I thought about where I am.

I am newly married, in a season that feels open, fresh, and new. Life feels like it is still taking shape. There are plans and conversations about the future, but nothing feels fixed yet. This stage holds opportunity more than answers.

My attention returned to the older man.

I wondered what season he was in. I wondered if he once carried children of his own or stood at crosswalks like this years ago. I wondered if his children were grown or if he never had them. I wondered if he was married or if he had lost someone important to him.

I knew I would never know his story.

There was just enough of a pause as the family crossed giving me time to sit with these thoughts. It felt like time slowed just enough to let me see how different lives can exist side by side without ever crossing paths.

Yoga philosophy teaches that everything changes. In that moment, it felt real. I could see how each stage of life feels permanent while you are living it, even though it will eventually pass.

Buddhist teachings focus on awareness and acceptance. Seeing things clearly without holding onto them. I noticed how quickly my mind tried to create meaning from the scene, turning strangers into symbols of past, present, and future.

Life does not follow a simple order.

The family reached the other side of the street and continued on. The girls did not look back. The parents stayed focused on where they were going. For them, this was just another crossing.

For me, it became something more.

The older man drove away. I continued on to work.

That short pause stayed with me throughout the day. It reminded me that everyone is living inside a season I cannot fully see. Some people are building families. Some are beginning new chapters. Some are reflecting on what has already passed.

For a brief moment, all of those seasons shared the same space.

Then the day went on.