Over the last few months or so i have wanted to take a step outside my normal routine, stop, take a breath and write....to achieve this end once a week mostly a Friday and some Saturdays i have sat in a cafe just down the road from me armed with a note pad, a pen, my observations and thoughts....here are some of the results, i hope you enjoy the journey with me
Saturday, 10 September 2011
Begginnings
Local café……finally a moment to sit and relax. I like it here, it has loads of atmosphere and….coffee…. and the staff are friendly….
Opposite me, well actually more diagonally across from me sits a gentleman most likely in his late 50’s, early 60’s. Square rimmed glasses perch on his nose, salted stubble adorn his cheeks while his crown of shaggy hair gives the impression of a slight tonsure where his hair has given way to the inevitable retreat of a life well and long lived. He seems to be selling something to a bent elderly lady who is sharing his table. Maybe they are even organising something. I’m not sure. They have a binder type contraption filled with plastic sheets between them as well as scattered papers on a slightly worse for wear walker adorned with faded battered gold paint and a worn faux leather bag attached underneath. For some reason I am drawn to this mans demeanor. I am not sure why but he seems like some one I wouldn’t mind spending time with.. I feel warm just looking at the pair of them. I find it an interesting juxtaposition to the elderly man with the thinning slicked back hair, semi professional collared shirt and black v neck jumper. Like me he is also sitting by himself writing. I some how feel unease when I set eyes on him. He has an air of loneliness about him, some sort of wariness, watchfulness. He does take time to learn the waitress’ name. He seems business like in an old school kind of way, like a lawyer in a dusty office in the back of some one horse town somewhere…..
I’ve been unexpectedly joined at my table by an elderly lady, she’s just shared with me that she has struggled with schizophrenia since the age of 14, she’s 62 now. She sits a while, making stilted attempts at conversation. I learn she’s meeting a friend at some stage but she doesn’t know if she wants to remain friends with this guy. After a while we both sit in silence interested in our coffee and she with her added bonus of cake….
It’s quite cosy in the aptly named local café by now. The conversation bubbling around me seems warm and friendly, surrounding the interior with a comforting hubbub as lunch hour reaches its zenith. It’s nice to stop after a day of distractions which seem to achieve a great deal but have left me feeling less than satisfied. It has been a welcome step sideways and for a few moments I feel at peace
I muse about the shack, a book I have been reading for the second time, the first time I think I inhaled it but this time I have perused the pages a bit more leisurely. Once again it has been quite a revelation. One on which I hope to build upon the foundations laid by it, especially how it talks about friendship with God. It’s quite a theological work for a fictional piece of writing and challenges quite a number of Christian frameworks that have accumulated through out Christendom over the last two thousand years. The end result for myself is a desire for a much deeper relationship with all aspects of the trinity. I’m brought back from my inner thoughts by the familiar sound of Regina Specter singing her way subtly into my conscience via the café sound system
I realise the time and unfortunately its time to wrap up what I hope will be a regular occurrence, I have commitments to attend to….so until next time I sit and write from the local………….
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