gently into this day

There’s a café on the corner where I often go for scone-with-marmalade and Americano before the office people come for their morning break and the yoga moms convene their klatsch. Sometimes I bring garden flowers to brighten the counter, at others I borrow an old New Yorker to read at home. I enjoy being a regular; could easily take all my meals and read all my books in neighbourhood eateries. But why am I telling you this?

This afternoon, when I stopped by to say Hello, all movement seemed to freeze as the three people working (the one at the grill, the one working the espresso machine, and the one doing everything in between) stood laughing, clapping, and telling me how happy they were to see me.

Just before that I’d gone into Chinatown to replace the canvas slip-ons (“Kung fu for Gentleman”) which I wear when sliding from room to room at work. The martial arts outfitter I used to go to was closed and so I fell in with the stream of tourists until I found a shop crammed with bamboo back scratchers and other Made-in-China trinkets. Once we were done fussing with sizes and proper fit, the shopkeeper pressed a foreign-looking coin in my hand ”for good luck,” then reached across the cash register to hug me. Not something one expects in Chinatown.

A little later, walking past a low-cost housing complex with its restaurant and second-hand store, I read about free activities on the bulletin board. On the spur of the moment I entered the building to see how I might offer a weekly meditation class.

A string of random acts on my day-off, each evidence of human kindness. Simple occurrences with nothing special on the surface. But underneath, a reminder of our interconnectedness. Everything’s right there …

O longing mind,
Dwell within the depth
Of your own pure nature.
Do not seek your home elsewhere …
Your naked awareness alone, O mind,
Is the inexhaustible abundance
For which you long so desperately.

~ Sri Ramakrishna (1836-1886)

4 Comments

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI