A morning routine disturbed makes Cecelia a cranky woman! I try, really I do, but quiet time to myself, coffee at the ready, peace and quiet, personal reflection and prayer–this is my morning ritual. Has been for years. Today however, not so much: to the clinic for blood work after a 12-hour fast, no coffee, no quiet time, no food. Once the task is completed I walk across the street and through a huge parking lot to the mall to have my first cup of coffee for the day, find a table and set up my studies. To my complete dismay however, the mall does not open up as early as I do. No coffee, no internet, no nothing. In the quiet I think I’ll read and wait. The stomach alerts me to the fact that it has lost patience with me and it starts demanding food. I wait in discomfort. A call from my husband, he cares that everything is going ok for me, only irritates me. I’m sorry, honey. I keep waiting. FINALLY, now at 9:40 am lights start popping on, people start stirring around, fountains come to life, customers appear from thin air, and the coffee is brewed. Star Bucks to the rescue! Ahhhh… now I can sit with the garish music in the background, the sound of bubbling water in the foreground, and study to my heart’s content. 🙂
- Lecture Hall, Coffee Shop, Getting Baked (thisispersona.wordpress.com)
- Coffee for two (betweeniandthesky.wordpress.com)
- 17 Things You Didn’t Know about Coffee (eatdrinkbetter.com)
- Confessions of a Coffee addict. (theutopiabetween.wordpress.com)
- Coffee. (maysea.wordpress.com)
Early morning coffee and time alone. Quiet stillness peace calm beauty — love of life and living, husband and place warms the soul. Spiritual thoughts drench the mind, the heart, my essence of being. Studies can wait a while longer. Time now for noticing and breathing.
Walking in the snow today, I wistfully recalled the vibrant colors of spring (shown year-round in greenhouses everywhere.) I thought of days filled with sunshine and warmth and I opined to myself, “only ten more weeks . . . or so.”
“Hey, Bubbe, look what I made” he excitedly exclaims as he holds up one lego creation after another to show me. We laugh. He tells me jokes . . . 8-year-old-boy jokes. He makes funny faces and we talk about going to the movies together. Last time I was there we went to see “Puss and Boots.” Without warning he asks “When are you coming again? Can you come here real soon?” I wince. I want to fly through cyberspace right now and be with him. “Soon, Jake. Soon” Ah, the wonder of FaceTime, a computer application that allows us to talk face-to-face in real time! “I love you Jacob” and I love being your Bubbe.
No snow today. No rain either. I noticed. Mostly overcast, but at least the rain held back. The sun shone for a moment here and there, too. I mean it really shone. I stared out the window at the still sodden ground, then glanced at the trees. The contrast between light and shadow was stark, and beautiful. I noticed.
I don’t like malls. I can’t remember when the last time was that I was in one. It’s been a long time. Tonight we went to the mall. Malls are everything I don’t like (I know–redundancy repeated, but I’m making a point): gaudy, loud, excessive, boring, depressing. We didn’t come to shop, rather to get out of the house on this, another dreary rainy night. We came to walk, and that we did. We walked at a brisk pace around the perimeter of the building, down the wide garish walk ways, upstairs and down. We walked until we were sweaty and tired and felt good. We talked the whole time, too, about politics and religion and how we knew what was best for the world. We noted the obscene materialism everywhere we looked and we walked. When we finished walking, we found a table and I pulled out books to study. The abrasive music offered a strange sort of block to the images and sounds vying for my attention. I studied with focus and intent. I covered mounds of material. Finally we left the mall. I was happy to leave, but I’ll be back I know, to walk and to study. Who would have thunk?
In the quiet of the evening my mind races. Deadlines are looming. Breathe deeply. Allow the peace to come in and flood my body, breathe out the toxic tense breath that dulls the senses. Take it easy for a bit. Life is too short to do otherwise.
Yes, I’ve been here before. Took a look around. Walked out the door.
Tonight I stay. I approach the machine determined to walk. I’ll walk for miles, over hills and through valleys. I’ll walk down roadways and off the beaten path, but I will walk. Never mind the hard-as-rock rippling muscles on the kid walking beside me (did I mention, not a gray hair on his head!) Never mind the svelte petite blond bombshell climbing stairs behind me (did I mention, not a gray hair on her head!) Never you mind. No sirree. No one will keep me from traipsing along the trail that stretch out before me. I’m walking from here to California and back! I’ll show my doctor. I’ll show my kids. I’ll show the world. I’ll do it for my grandkids. Just watch me! 😉
***Tonight I walked 2.45 miles on my way to California and back! 😀
Woven through a dreary day are streaks of lacy light. Winter is here no doubt about it. Too much inside time, not enough outside. One day every week it doesn’t matter. One day to clean and cook, one day to forget about what happens outside our door. One day to concentrate on preparation. Contemplating the onset of darkness offers rays of light. I work tirelessly. I’m no balabusta, but the place must be clean, the meals must be cooked, think of the light. Minutes away, is everything done? . . . the crescendo peaks, the light is here. Ahhhhh… finally Shabbos.
I had a small visitor today, but he had very little to say.
He simply stopped to utter “YooHoo, You there?” then went on his merry way.
But later when I took a peek, “rude” had been my visitor! he so filled with greed!
The goodies left for Mr. Cardinal? Now nothing more than hulls.
But my small visitor had feasted well indeed!