In the stress and rush of everyday life, we don’t always notice life’s small, unique moments. Sometimes, though, we’re lucky enough to get a hint we can’t miss. Here’s one of mine, for example – from a perfectly ordinary day at a perfectly ordinary post office.
It was a cold December day outside the little post office. A post office where it goes “ding dong” when you step through the door, where people nod politely to one another, and which some would even call “their post office”.
I was already running late. The books H-A-D to be collected, and it was the final deadline. I got on my old granny bike and whizzed through the town’s snow and slush. “Ding Dong” it went as I stepped through the door. My rush of triumph made me throw my arms in the air and shout “YES!” on pure reflex – which surprised both me and the other customers. I quickly pulled myself together, though, and proudly took a number.
At that very second, two men came through the door and shouted: “THIS IS A ROBBERY – THIS IS A ROBBERY – EVERYONE DOWN ON THE FLOOR”
In the middle of a post-office robbery
My jaw hit the floor. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. It was as if someone had put the wrong film in the projector. I was supposed to be watching a post-office film – cosiness, patient customers, friendly service. Suddenly I was watching a film with two masked robbers ordering people down on the floor.
My jaw hit the floor. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. It was as if someone had put the wrong film in the projector. I was supposed to be watching a post-office film – cosiness, patient customers, friendly service. Suddenly I was watching a film with two masked robbers ordering people down on the floor.
Everything happened in slow motion
I watched people lie down on their stomachs with their fingers laced behind their heads. I watched two customers at the counter sink down in despair, hands stretched straight up, as if surrendering in a Western.
I watched people lie down on their stomachs with their fingers laced behind their heads. I watched two customers at the counter sink down in despair, hands stretched straight up, as if surrendering in a Western.
I looked down at the floor. You couldn’t see the colour of the lino for the layer of slush that covered it like porridge. I spotted a little stain from the bike ride on my charcoal-grey suit and brushed it off. “That – that I’m not doing!” I swore to myself, as I watched a customer lie down on their stomach with a little splash.
Everyone was down on the floor
I was now the only customer still standing. One of the robbers spotted me and pulled a big black pistol out of his Prima carrier bag. Arm outstretched, he pointed the pistol at me and closed in fast. Five centimetres from my face he stopped and shouted: “DOWN ON THE F-L-O-O-R!!!”
I was now the only customer still standing. One of the robbers spotted me and pulled a big black pistol out of his Prima carrier bag. Arm outstretched, he pointed the pistol at me and closed in fast. Five centimetres from my face he stopped and shouted: “DOWN ON THE F-L-O-O-R!!!”
Time froze
His hand was shaking, making the barrel of the pistol tremble. His knuckles were white and his pupils as big as teacups. Everything around us went black. Pitch black. I saw only him, me and the barrel. I felt my body, my pulse, my sweaty hands, my breathing. We were ready. He was ready to kill, and I was ready. Ready to live.
His hand was shaking, making the barrel of the pistol tremble. His knuckles were white and his pupils as big as teacups. Everything around us went black. Pitch black. I saw only him, me and the barrel. I felt my body, my pulse, my sweaty hands, my breathing. We were ready. He was ready to kill, and I was ready. Ready to live.
On a cloud of adrenaline
“D-O-W-N!!!” shouted the robber, giving me one last chance. Finally the message got through to my knees, and they began to bend. I crouched down and didn’t even see the two robbers disappear behind the counter. Because I was high. High on a cloud of adrenaline. Neither happy nor angry, positive nor negative. I was simply here!
“D-O-W-N!!!” shouted the robber, giving me one last chance. Finally the message got through to my knees, and they began to bend. I crouched down and didn’t even see the two robbers disappear behind the counter. Because I was high. High on a cloud of adrenaline. Neither happy nor angry, positive nor negative. I was simply here!
New senses
The robbers swept out the back door, the police arrived just a few minutes later, and shortly after I was back out on the street, clutching my books to my chest. I smelled, tasted, heard and felt as if I’d been given new senses. The experience at the post office had taught me something very important:
The robbers swept out the back door, the police arrived just a few minutes later, and shortly after I was back out on the street, clutching my books to my chest. I smelled, tasted, heard and felt as if I’d been given new senses. The experience at the post office had taught me something very important:
- If you want to understand the value of a decade, ask the robber who has served his sentence
- If you want to understand the value of a month, ask the robber once the money is spent
- If you want to understand the value of an hour, ask the robber on the run
- If you want to understand the value of a minute, ask the police who arrived too late
- If you want to understand the value of a second – ask the customer who had the gun pointed at him
The unique moments
When the day comes when we stand at the end of the road and look back on a long life, I don’t think we’ll be able to remember all of it. I think we’ll only remember the unique moments. Moments we can hope will turn up now and then, or that we can help create ourselves. Not by staying on our feet as the last customer standing, but by opening our eyes and taking in every single second.
When the day comes when we stand at the end of the road and look back on a long life, I don’t think we’ll be able to remember all of it. I think we’ll only remember the unique moments. Moments we can hope will turn up now and then, or that we can help create ourselves. Not by staying on our feet as the last customer standing, but by opening our eyes and taking in every single second.
Because if you don’t experience something on a bike ride from Østerport to Kongens Nytorv, it doesn’t matter where in the world you travel – you still haven’t learned to open your eyes to life’s unique moments.
/Martin
– Thank goodness it’s almost Monday!
– Thank goodness it’s almost Monday!
