When Coffee is so much more . . .

I've been here before; sitting at Einstein Bagels considering why I'm not writing regularly. At this point, regularly doesn't even mean daily -- I'd take every other day, every third day. I'm in a writing rut without a doubt. I decided to fill just one napkin this morning - one napkin filled with words.*

This is a good place to sit; it's a neighborhood place. There are customers who come in on a regular schedule, people I know well enough to say hello to or to chat with for a couple of minutes. For several years, a small group of my friends and I were regulars. On Friday mornings, we would meet at 8 AM for one hour for coffee and .... conversation, friendship, and support. A touch-stone hour that kept us connected, We shared our lives over coffee and the news of engagements, graduations, upcoming vacation plans, parental illnesses, family news and changes, and the joy of grandchildren. We were good with one another - good listeners, able to offer advice and support based in caring and long term friendship. Then, we solved 'all the problems of the world' -- we were damn good at providing solutions. If only the world would listen to us.

With changing circumstances, the group sometimes shifted. Then, within our final group of three, one returned to school with an 8 AM start and another took on regular AM care of her grandson. Our group disbanded after many years. We were no longer Friday morning regulars.

I miss the notation in my calendar that read 'coffee' but needed no further explanation. It was coffee but so much more. Occasionally, we still get together when is is a holiday weekend or someone is visiting from out of town. I send out an email to see if anyone is available - usually two or three can make it. We all miss touching base with one another . . . our friendships go back two decades to when are children were in kindergarten or first grade. There was a rhythm to our week-by-week conversations; time for each of us to talk. Time to listen. Time to reflect, for even a minute or two, before answering.

A few months ago, a friend was visiting from Atlanta and five of us made time for coffee. It was wonderful to see everyone; we talked fast and furiously; often several conversations occurring simultaneously. I found it difficult to give anyone my full attention. After an absence of months, the rhythm was gone.

I miss being a regular.

*edited from the napkin

101 Things to Do in 1001 Days: Goal 25

My quest continues to complete my list of 101 things.

Goal 25 is to journal daily a six word memoir about my life* . . . (for at least 30 consecutive days - 3 times during the 1001 days). I began the first block of this journal writing the day my daughter left for her summer adventure in India. "Meg to India. Miss her already."

Some days are easier than others. A specific event or emotion just needs to be the center of attention "Change ripples outward: splashes over me." Other days, ordinary days, I work through many possibilities to choose the right words. Sometimes, I try to go with the silly "Mani/Pedi. Fingernails: neutral. Toes: outrageous." For balance, I often try to be a bit more serious or profound "Parenting adult children. A learning process."

I'm an expansive writer so summarizing a full twenty-four hours (1,440 minutes)into six words is a challenge for me. One of the aspects I like about this challenge is that my whole life is showing up on the page - parenting, writing, family, risks, realizations, fears, friends, as well as the ordinary and boring. "Need to sleep; deep without dreams."

I'm learning that for me, there is something liberating, yet safe, in writing just six words. I find the writing a bit easier than it was when I began in May. Many days, it is even fun! I've gone longer than 30 days with this first block; I've adjusted the goal to journal the entire time my daughter is away (through the end of August).

And I'm doing it . . . day-by-day.


*See http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords

Flexibility

One of the things I love about the early morning hours of a summer weekend day is the 'promise' of the day -- so many things may happen and but right now, I don't know what any of them will be. This is not a scheduled week day which begins with the buzz of the alarm at 5:00AM -- but a day that has a vague plan (maybe we'll barbeque around six); a day that has the ability to be flexible.

Right now, my neighborhood is as quiet as my neighborhood ever gets: just the hum of an air conditioner compressor, the rise of a neighbor's electric garage door, a few birds, a barking dog, and a car or two on the adjacent street. I don't want to move, to disturb the silence around me. I want to listen to the quiet.

Lao Tzu, an ancient Chinese philosopher, is credited with noting "Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished" . . . I trust that whatever I need to accomplish today, will be accomplished.

First on the list, a hot cup of coffee.

Waves

The afternoon air is changing. Although invisible, the humidity creeps in and the temperature rises as the cloudless afternoon allows the sun to bake the landscape. Very little air is moving and my decorative flag is almost still. The chorus of birds from an hour ago has stilled to a single call.

I can sense the heat wave beginning.

I try to keep the windows open and the air conditioner turned off as long as possible. I like the sounds of summer. Of my neighborhood. A single songbird is more delightful than hum of the compressor for the A/C unit. Slam of a car door next door.

Not to mention the drum solo from the boy across the street. He practices in his garage, door wide open, and, in the afternoon, waves of music float out into our neighborhood. I can't discern a specific song but he can keep a beat. I love the enthusiasm of an 11 year old despite the heat.

Another's Dream

It is an odd and intimate thing to be included in another person's dream. Recently a friend emailed me --

"You were in my dream last night - we were both in separate vehicles on the highway. Suddenly I found myself in a hospital built inside a high school . . .

Then I looked out the window and you were in a big yellow Jeep Cherokee and someone was trying to run you off the road. I was far away but rooting for you. I saw your face change into determination and you took the car - and RAM - drove it into the mean person and they went flying off the road and that's how it ended.

I think it means you are definitely an independent and strong lady who pushes back when she needs to."

I like the interpretation that I am "an independent and strong lady who pushes back when she needs to" although I hope the person in the car is fine.

A Simple Prayer

If I can do some good today,
If I can serve along life's way,
If I can something helpful say,
Lord, show me how.

If I can right a human wrong,
If I can help to make one strong,
If I can cheer with a smile or song,
Lord, show me how.

If I can aid one in distress,
If I can make a burden less,
If I can spread more happiness, Lord, show me how.

The simplicity of this prayer struck me today. It isn't the grandiose gestures, rather the small, almost insignificant ones, that can change a moment, brighten a day, correct a wrong, make a difference. Accomplish something that we may not even be aware of. I won't even try to cheer someone with a song (the good here comes from my NOT singing) but I can listening carefully, share a pleasant greeting, or, perhaps, help someone today.

cold