The end; the beginning

Yesterday marked my last shift at the Bux I transferred in to from Kentucky. It was an odd day on many accounts. We were short one partner, so it made for a more chaotic shift than what I had anticipated, and at a certain point, I let frustration get the better of me. One of our retired regulars brought me a huge bouquet of flowers and wished me luck. For whatever reason, the events of the day sparked a memory.

A million years ago, when I first started working for the Bux, I spent much of my time as an opening shift supervisor. Yesterday, quite randomly, I remembered those early mornings and how I once felt. In the quietness of the morning, I would go outside and set up the umbrellas and tables for the day. At times, the early morning fog still hung in the air, and I still remember that crisp smell. I remembered that I once dreamed of opening a café outside the US, and I would think about this imagined café often as I opened the umbrellas and set each one purposefully in its place. I imagined how it would feel to open the umbrellas of my own café, presumably somewhere in France. I also imagined knowing many of the customers, in some random small village, by name and greeting them each morning. One of my main reasons for accepting the job at the Bux, way back when, was to learn the café industry in preparation for opening my own.

Yesterday, I realized that I'd forgotten. In the messy, corporate stench of this company (which was surely not the case way back when) I'd forgotten my love of the café experience. I'd forgotten what I love about coffee and a café is the connection--the human connection--that happens as souls come together in such a place. In the chaotic herding of people in and out, I'd forgotten my daydreams of those early mornings at The Summit.

I'm determined to regain this. Having worked at several locations, I don't know that this new one will be any different, but I can regain this feeling, this connection, within myself. I don't know if I'll ever own a café outside the US, and that's not really the point, but I can reconnect with the present moment while working here.

Because my life outside of work is filled with such happiness and peace, it has been easy to live for those times outside of the Bux, but I find myself challenged to take living in the present moment to my job, as well. I cannot simply practice living in the moment within those times that are already beautiful on their own accord--that's the easy part. I must also learn to rise above any on-the-job frustration, and find the beauty in those moments and connect with what is going on around me.

Although, I did not intend to be at the Bux for more than a few months after moving to New York, this is where I find myself today. And if I am honest, it has provided me the opportunity and the time I need to write, and for that, I must be truly grateful indeed.

"Cool, we're going through a tunnel!"

Yesterday, on the A sub home from Harlem, I watched in delight as twin boys, probably four-ish years old, experienced their very first sub ride. I knew this to be a fact because of the conversation happening between parents and sons as they entered the sub and found a seat. Luckily, I had a clear view of their faces.  They were visiting an older relative, also on the sub, and she appeared just as delighted as the boys about the whole experience. 

In an effort to make the jostling, noisy ride into the depths of the earth more adventurous than scary, the father was excitedly explaining how the sub worked, and the "really cool" anticipated tunnel we would soon be "zooming" through. As the doors closed, the two boys' eyes were big with excitement; they both wore a grin as they rattled off questions about what they were about to encounter. They were also beyond excited to see dinosaurs on the station wall as we started to move.(We were near the Museum of Natural History) As if planned, we were beside the D sub at this particular point and one of the boys waved passionately at all the the passengers in the sub next to us. 

As we left the station lights behind, the father's tactic worked. The boy sitting closest to his father yelled out, "Cool, we're going through a tunnel!" I even saw a small smile escape an older business man's lips who had been engrossed in his paper across the aisle.What a wonderful event to witness. I sat there and thought about it; yes, it really was cool.

That young boys' enthusiasm expresses how I feel about my life at this point. "Cool, I'm living in New York!" "Cool, I have found this Love I now call home!" "Cool, I'm married and we are so happy!" "Cool, I have found my place and my peace in this world." This life's adventures keep getting better. Yes, life has its uncertainties, but the fear of the unknown or the different should never keep us from experiencing the present moment.

Peace.

Change is in the air

Locals told me to get ready; I was expecting a scorching hot August. It has been relatively mild, save a few days, a pleasant change from the sticky summers of Louisville. We may yet have our own bout with humidity, but as of yet it has been beautiful. It’s August! It's New York. Wow. We've been here for simply ages now. The last two mornings have been a bit chilly even. You know what’s just around the corner….

Some changes are in the works here. At the end of the month, I’m transferring to a new Bux. I'll be honest, I had not intended on being at the Bux for another year, but it is what it is, I guess. It has allowed me more time to write and taught me a lot about contentment and patience, so I'm grateful. After last winter's one mile walking-commute through the snow, I've decided to shorten my commute just in case (I'm there forever). I'll also feel as if I'm in New York, whereas my current location doesn't feel as such. (Sometimes comically/frighteningly so...bring on the NASCAR bumper stickers) An added bonus to my transfer is that my new store will be in the area of the PFLAG meetings I mentioned a few months ago. It will be easier to start to feel a part of the community.

I have recently started teaching ESL (as a volunteer) for an African refugee organization in Harlem. It is both challenging and rewarding. I've been introduced to such a beautiful group of volunteers and students. It challenges me personally, since I’m sometimes prone to second-guess my own abilities to teach ESL effectively. The practice is good for me and I sincerely hope I can help these beautiful souls adjust to their new life here. The range is great. I have, so far, worked with women who are working on their citizenship test, but also those who are just learning to the alphabet. I am reminded, once again, how much I often take for granted, and I am encouraged by their determination and their dreams.

I continue to write and we continue to love our new life here. My wonderful wifey has jumped into life here with both feet and is active with school organizations, work, cycling, and whatever else she finds to do! The Academic Dean at JCTC said it best, she certainly is a “force to be reckoned with!” Her compassionate heart flourishes here, and I am more grateful every day for this force of nature in my life. Those who know her are better for it, for she pulls out a greatness from within, the likes of which you never knew existed. 

Buddha and a six pack of Leinenkugel's

I love it when life drives home a point. Upon seeing my frustration concerning my lack of accomplishment on my to-do list of reading, writing, and french, my wise wifey reminded me to focus on one thing versus the forty things I was currently trying to focus on each day. Unaware of my slow slide back into the hamster wheel mindset, I was writing in my head while reading, thinking of French while writing, blah, blah, blah, blah...and not doing any of these things well. Two weeks of feeling as if progress was eluding me, was soon replaced with a productive mindset once again. She's one smart cookie, that wifey of mine, and I'm more grateful every day.

In part of my catch-up readings, Shambhala Sun, I saw clearly, how my life had quickly cluttered, and I could feel it in my level of exhaustion. It's time to slow down and be in the present moment once again. I am always so shocked at the clarity of mind that sweeps in once I slow myself down...again. Had I rushed through a checklist, not taking the time to let my readings sink in, I would have missed such beautiful words to live by.

There is a video that went viral a few months ago, (I haven't seen it yet) of Professor George Saunders convocation speech at Syracuse University. In his speech, he spoke of kindness. In May's edition, (I told you I was behind!) he is interviewed in-depth. Because I was so moved my his words, I'll share some of them with you here. Forgive the length, but it is certainly worthy of some thought.

A longtime Western Buddhist was meeting with a famous old lama for the last time. The master beckoned the student to approach. The student cam close, figuring he was going to receive the master's pithiest and most secret instruction. The master whispered his final teaching: "Be kind."

SS: Many people fee that we live in a dangerous world, and we can't afford to let our guard down.

GS: ...people say to me, in general I agree with you about kindness, but what about Hitler, what about terrorists? I think we've been misled...by this idea that we always have to be girding our loins for the next big showdown with somebody or other... Ninety-nine percent of the time if you just do your best to be kind, you're better off. It's the basic things, like trying to have good manners, keeping your assumptions about the other person a little open, being willing to revise your opinion. The times when you're asked to do something about Hitler are pretty few and far between. 

I keep in mind that quote from The Philadelphia Story: "The time to make up your mind about other people is never."

SS: Perhaps it's all a self-fulfilled prophecy. We live in an unkind world because we believe it's an unkind world. 

GS: ...if you go out into the world ready for confrontation, then confrontations find you. If you go out with a sort of diffusing energy, the world reads that and feels more friendly toward you. So I think there's a circular effect.

Nobody's the boss and the situation is unstable. There's no fixed point. When I think of life that way, it sums up the proper level of mercy and tolerance. We really don't know what's going on, so our feeling of sympathy or empathy is related to our mutual lostness. [interconnectedness]

Yesterday, this was exemplified. Even though I am often fed-up with corporate America, I do truly enjoy (most of) the customers that I see on a regular basis. One such customer exemplified this connectedness by bringing me a six pack of Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat yesterday. I talk with him and his friends regularly and I enjoy finding connection points with my customers. Our connection point happens to be beer. As I thanked him and told him I appreciate the kind thought, he said he tries to find ways of showing kindness to those with whom he crosses paths. These simply choices make the difference; this is what it's all about.

Cheers!