After a week with a number of challenges, I found myself spiraling into old negative thoughts and patterns. And as on command, the universe provided me with an opportunity to learn and grow and remember some perspective today. It was windy and cold, which was invigorating as I biked 6 miles to the nearest coffee shop, where I intended to sit in a corner and read. On my ride, I saw a
Northern Water Snake in the middle of the road, so I nudged it until it slithered across and into the grass. It's the first snake I have seen here, so I felt good as I went on my way. The coffee shop was closed when I arrived there, which was the universe's little nudge to me to slither down the road to a little bistro I hadn't been to before. I was delighted the moment I walked through the door. It was as though I had entered a cafe designed specifically for me and my needs. It was homey and warm, with a cheerful staff bustling behind the counter. The wide-plank wood floors, wooden counter, bistro tables, and wooden beams gave it a rustic charm, and Carla Bruni's sultry voice sang French torch songs as the espresso machine hummed. I sat down at a counter seat and admired the casual bunch of
Lily of the Valley flowers in a glass in front of me, smelling sweet and looking even sweeter. And there I sat with a blueberry muffin and a latte done to perfection for the next hour and a half, feeling my attitude shift with each passing minute. I read essays from the stack of
The Sun magazine I had brought, and again, each essay seemed to speak directly to me and my needs.
One
essay was about a woman's quest to find her connection to the world and her self esteem. In it, she finds herself on the Sonoma Coast, somewhere around Pt. Reyes I imagine, talking to a French hippie healer, and her words could be mine. She tells about having a secret feeling that "things that are possible for other people are not possible for me. That I am excluded." The hippie woman asks what she feels excluded from. "Everything...A husband. A home. Nice underwear. Dinner parties with stimulating conversation. Vacations abroad. A garden with nasturtiums and sunflowers," the woman answers. I underline this passage. At the end of the essay, the woman sees her life's gifts, and sees her blessings, and believes that the world is open to her, even if it's two steps forward and one step back.
Another
essay I read had a passage about a barred owl, oddly coincidental with the return of owls to my life lately in the woods, and in particular, a nightly serenade by a barred owl. The passage talks about the writer's belief after her friend's death that her spirit is inside of the barred owl, and it fits seemlessly into the conversation I had recently with someone about the sense of spirits living on in birds, my feelings about owls as some kind of spirit guide.
Everything about the afternoon nourished me perfectly for where I was at emotionally. I took the time to make a space for myself and nourish my own soul, sitting by myself at a counter, bathed in warmth. By the time I walked out the door, I felt a deep gratitude and had let go of my feeling of lack, my feeling of not having a place in the world. I felt moments of loving myself, something I work for every day and feel growing slowly but surely in my life. Riding my bike back through the windy rolling hills, my heart felt full for me, and during that ride, I didn't need anybody else to fill it. As I rode I was thinking about a quote I recently read, and I'll leave you with that:
"Be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should...
In the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world."
-Max Ehrmann
