I think I mentioned this in passing in a previous post, but earlier this month there was a huge storm and a branch from the cottonwood tree in my yard fell right on my windshield. Oddly enough, there were no dents on the frame of the truck, but the windshield was cracked so hard that I could feel the broken glass on the inside. Then, of course, it got hella cold, and the crack spread across the entire windshield.
So, today, along with scheduling routine maintenance, I also went to get my windshield replaced. It was nine in the morning, chilly, snowing, and I went across the street to a local diner because all of my various relatives had commitments and couldn't come pick me up, and let's face it, no one waits for over thirty minutes in a waiting room if they have somewhere else they can be.
I walked down a street with no sidewalk, crossed at the crosswalk, walked across the front lawn of the diner (because sometimes I am lazy like that) and went inside and got a table for one.
It's strange; there is such a stereotype about people who get tables for one. They are lonely losers, depressed souls who don't have anyone in their life to accompany them on something as simple as a morning expedition to the diner. But I don't think that's always the case. I think sometimes, it's good for a person to just be present with themselves.
And as I was sitting there in my corner booth, at a quarter past nine in the morning, watching all the cars race by as the snow drifted by the window, sipping hot tea and nibbling on some sausage links, I thought about how perfectly wonderful the world is. How wonderful my life is. In that moment, all the stresses and worries in my life were inconsequential. In that one moment, I was perfectly content with where and what and who I was.
I then proceeded to sip quietly at my tea (with cream and sugar, of course) and read my novel, making annotations in the margins and casually listening to all the conversations in the diner as people went about their mornings. I think all of us need to have a morning like this, once in a while. Where it's just you, your thoughts, and the world, all casually bumping together like rubber ducks in a kiddie pool.
I walked down a street with no sidewalk, crossed at the crosswalk, walked across the front lawn of the diner (because sometimes I am lazy like that) and went inside and got a table for one.
It's strange; there is such a stereotype about people who get tables for one. They are lonely losers, depressed souls who don't have anyone in their life to accompany them on something as simple as a morning expedition to the diner. But I don't think that's always the case. I think sometimes, it's good for a person to just be present with themselves.
And as I was sitting there in my corner booth, at a quarter past nine in the morning, watching all the cars race by as the snow drifted by the window, sipping hot tea and nibbling on some sausage links, I thought about how perfectly wonderful the world is. How wonderful my life is. In that moment, all the stresses and worries in my life were inconsequential. In that one moment, I was perfectly content with where and what and who I was.
I then proceeded to sip quietly at my tea (with cream and sugar, of course) and read my novel, making annotations in the margins and casually listening to all the conversations in the diner as people went about their mornings. I think all of us need to have a morning like this, once in a while. Where it's just you, your thoughts, and the world, all casually bumping together like rubber ducks in a kiddie pool.
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