After the Cafe

I felt like a TV character. Except the one I was playing was better then any that I had ever seen. The scenery was lush. Greenery everywhere, a slight breeze on a sunny day. We walked into the white walled boutique, that smelled of wildflowers. We sifted through the racks and fell in love with the unique designs and patterns. We tried on clothing upon clothing, giggling in our temporary nighties, and smiling as the sun rays streamed through the open windows. We quickly made friends with the boutique owner, who chuckled at our love of boho and quirky fashion. She gave us discounts and we walked out smiling, reading to take on more shops, and take on we did. Bikini tops at my very first lingerie boutique(I had never felt so grown up in my life), accessories at the boho chic boutique at the corner, lusting over anthropology. It was a day of shopping very well spent. We then sauntered over to a chocolate boutique to top off our girly day. Frozen caramel hot chocolate hit the spot(but is it really hot chocolate if it isn't hot?) Then we decided to end our visit at what I will now and forever consider the greatest store of all time. The oxford exchange. It was packed fill with everything I loved. Part indie, organic market, park bookstore, part tea lounge, part greenhouse, part eclectic boutique, all residing in what appeared to formerly be a vintage train station, or printing press, very much reminiscent of London. I was in love. I couldn't decide if I wanted to live in Tampa, London, or Paris(my heart was still very much at that cafe). Parting was such sweet sorrow but that day will forever be one of the best and most informative. Although it didn't do much to calm my wanderlust. Maybe it's not meant to be calmed.

While at the Cafe: Volume 2

Now for the other floodgate. Back to the father. He was peaceful. You could tell because he just had that aura to him (I'm a huge believer in a certain brand of auras). He had no laptop or smartphone in sight, just a book, a journal, and a baby hanging out on his lap. It led me to believe that he was a simple man who enjoyed life's simple pleasures. Not unlike his little baby blue. He was dedicated to the idea of father/ son time, even though his child would not remember these moments. But looking at this peaceful child, you could tell that this man was doing something right. Was it possible that his gentle, peaceful aura had so rapidly rubbed off onto his child? My friend said the other day that you could tell a lot about a person by looking at their child.  Is that true? If it is, were all my fears verified? I was so afraid to have children. Afraid that any flaws I picked up from my family would be passed down to my child, or afraid that I would somehow psychologically damage the child. I did not want to be responsible for that. But then I realized, what a cowardly thing to say. What an excuse. Everyday has been an effort to be more positive, to make great changes, to find joy and happiness in everything. The person I am now, from who I was five months ago is a completely different person. You don't want your kid to pick up your bad habits? Change them. Life is so much easier to navigate when actually making an effort. Strive to be a better person always. For God, for your spouse, for your children, your friends and for yourself.

While At The Cafe...

As I sat, sipping my tea, I observed this man and his baby. What made this particular experience resound in my mind, was the piercing blue eyes of the maybe six month old child. As I giggled and chatted with my friend, I felt the penetrating gaze of baby blue eyes. I turned to my right, and I saw the father sitting, drinking coffee and reading a book as the baby silently faced us and sat on his fathers lap, observing us. He looked as though he could see through us with big sky blue eyes, filled with so much wisdom and understanding. I thought to myself, "What a strange place to take your child." But the baby couldn't have been more content.
          We instinctively called out to the child and spoke in our typical high pitched female voice that women save just for animals and children. The child gave us a tiny knowing grin, like he was acknowledging us but also letting us know that he would continue to observe us, and observe he did. I remarked to his father at how well behaved he was, and his father gave a small shrug, as if to say, "Why wouldn't he be well behaved?" The father then talked about how once a week, they had father/son time. No matter how busy his workday got, they would continue to have that time because father/son time was important. He included that little baby blue also loved sunshine and needed mornings like that. The baby suddenly smiled, as if he agreed and then open were the floodgates of my thoughts spilling out.
           First of all, babies truly are little people. It was never more obvious to me then it was in that moment. Which makes abortion seem even more ridiculous and heartbreaking to me, but thats a whole different topic. Babies are us, but at different stages in our lives. I know, obvious. In so many ways, we are obviously smarter then children. It makes sense. The more days you live, the more things you learn and experience, and from experience comes wisdom. Plus theres the whole brain development thing. But what about maturity? Maturity is a word so often thrown about and misunderstood. Quite like the word love. Theres spiritual maturity and physical maturity(which is what most definitions of mature, seem to refer to), but then there's that kind of world defined maturity.  If you're youthful and fun, you may come across as immature, and people may say that you'll grow out of it. I think that is just a way for people to feel better about their own lives by looking down on people who are actually enjoying theirs. But  still, I think there is a different kind of maturity, that we learn as children, but forget as we get older. Or maybe we are just born that way as children. Maybe children are just the purest, most untouched forms of our souls.
            Maybe somewhere deep inside, beyond all the heartbreak and bull****, is a little child deep inside that the world tells us to suppress. That child sees a world of wonder and beauty. Babies obviously have flaws. They're afraid of everything, and something is always making them cry, but babies are the most resilient little humans. Sure they'll cry, but two seconds later, they're laughing their butts off, because you said, "Peekaboo!" Babies enjoy things, truly enjoy them, and don't even get me started on the unconditional love thing.  Babies(and animals) love the crap out of you. They always want to be around you, don't notice all the mistakes you're making, or the fact that sometimes you don't know what the heck you are doing. All they see is you trying, and loving them, and thats enough. Not to mention that they're still crazy about you. When did we forget to love like that? When did we become so shrewd, and judgmental. We could learn a lot from babies. We could learn to not close off our hearts, even when we've been wronged, to love openly and unashamedly, to love people just for being themselves and not expecting anything in return. To view the world with awe. To see the beauty and wonder in everything and everyone. To giggle and laugh so hard, your face turns red. To just enjoy the moment instead of worrying about the future. Just be in the present. If those things are what the world classifies as "immature" then i'll take it.

A Lovely Morning

I felt like an independent woman that day. A classy hippie who embraced every aspect of life in all the subtle ways. I spent the day with one of my best girlfriends. The person who I feel truly understands, accepts and loves me out of almost anyone in the world. She wasn't my oldest friend, or one of those friends you see all the time, who knows all the details of your day to day, but she was the friend that you almost didn't notice was there. Not because she was dull or quiet, but because you are so completely yourself and open around her, in a way that you aren't with anyone. Whether or not it would always be like that, she would always have a special place in my heart and soul, for making me be able to feel like that, and for giving me this day. This day to be so free. This day to let my inner spirit shine, and just say, do, and feel whatever I wanted to. We started off the morning in the loveliest way. We sat street side, drinking our coffee and tea, sunlight beating on the sides of our faces. It was the loveliest cafe, that bled Paris. The most beautiful french music played over the speakers. Then and there,  I swore to learn french. Our waitress was quiet, but she had the french class all over her. Bright pink hair, a sparkling smile, and youth and mischief in her eyes. My spirit was flowing with contentment and the word lovely never seemed so perfect an adjective as it was to describe that breakfast experience. The food by the way, was phenomenal. Banana bread french toast. Need I say more?

A Lazy Florida Day

It was an unconventionally wonderful day. We slept in until 11. We were in no rush to do anything. We just fell onto the couch and turned on The Vampire Diaries. It was our favorite TV show, so much so that we had toured the set a couple summers back. We ate puppy chow, the healthy kind, due to us both being such nutrition fanatics. We quietly watched, enthralled by the interactions and attached, as if we had formed life long friendships with the characters. Every so often we would comment, squeak or remark on what was happening on the screen. For a second, my gaze wandered off to the balcony doors. The curtains were pulled to the side, and even though it was a chilly day, the sunshine streamed through the window. I swiftly stood, and pressed my bare toes against the cream, plush carpeting, and walked out onto the balcony, breathing in the scent of fresh laundry, that lingered in my nostrils as I sat back down to watch the television. My gaze flickered back to the doors and noticed deep green palms leaning over the balcony. I looked at one of my best friends in the world and sighed in contentment. This day was wonderful, and for the simplest of reasons.

Florida Nights

I remember stepping off the plane.  The plane ride had been filled with screaming children, Xander and Cassia(A book I was reading), a drunk housewife next to me shooting back coke and Bacardi, but none the less, as the landing strips appeared beneath us, i realized I had made it. But I remember the feeling of stepping off the plane. I had friend butterflies. I couldn't wait to see her. She said it was cold, but it felt amazing. I could wear flip flops after all. She made me laugh, because she was all layered up in winter gear. She always makes me laugh. We were starving so we went to the hulk hogans restaurant, and felt so out of place. It was like we had entered the jersey shore. Juicehead gorillas everywhere. Yes I watched the jersey shore... embarrassing. So we went to Bahama Breeze instead. . It was so wonderful, just what you would expect of a beachy restaurant. I loved it so much. Our waiter was puerto rican, which I instantly recognized, due to the fact that he looked like he was one of my cousins. His name was Christian. I was introduced to new friends, I love new people, we sat together, we laughed together. There were cheese grits, which if anyone knows me at all, they know that makes any occasion awesome. There was Miami vice, my new favorite drink, i'm sure. And there were coffee entrepreneurs, which in case anyone is curious, we actually were trying to say connoisseurs, but somehow the phrasing was all messed up. Kind of the way she said, on the brisk, instead of on the cusp. Some of these stories may be uneventful to the reader, but the me, I see a perfect, crisp, Florida evening with great people, and that is a story worth telling.

D12

D12, Rainbow kissed skyline, Independence.
Independence coursing through my veins.
British accents, sparkling peach black tea, linoleum.
Greasy food from the cafe next door.
Pleather chairs, cold and stiff.
Fuji apple Pear life Water.
Text messages from afar.
Pencil to paper.
Uninterrupted hours, Olympic update
Buildings clothed in shadows.
Me, just me an the world.
Stained carpets.

Everyone waits to go on their next adventure.
We all aim toward the same goal, waiting for our mechanical bird to fly us through the skies, but we all approach it so uniquely. Some with impatience, some desperate to kill the time, some so absorbed in each other or in their other activities, or the food they eat. They barely recognize the beauty of the chaotic symmetry that surrounds them. Our minds are so full, so aware, but are we aware of all the wrong? Is that what causes our anxiety and our stress? Not enough deep breaths or pauses. Too busy in the past or future to appreciate the present? This moment? Our surroundings? This is what feeds our soul. Ponder carefully how you choose to feed it and what you choose to feed it with. This building, so cold, so formal, so bare, yet full of so many stories, homecomings, goodbyes, new journeys, end of journeys, A breath of fresh air after a time of being lost. So many warm bodies, passing each other, not knowing each others names, barely even noticing each other. We are all too self absorbed. As I write this I realize the amount of time I am wasting, making sure my words are out, like they are so important, like they will change a thing, but you can say all the words you want. You can learn all the things in the world , and have more "eureka" moments then anyone, but unless you are a true living model of all your eurekas, your life will never progress and your mind will be nothing but wasted potential.

Plaid suitcases, tennis shoes.
Darkened skylines, lights sparkling in the distance.

I am no better, and no worse then my surroundings, and in this moment, we are all the same. In this moment, we are no more or no less important then one another, as we wait to go on the same plane, to the same destination. Everything we've been through, everyone we've come across has led us to this moment. This fated moment. And now we wait. Wait....