gimme some sugar

Have you ever found yourself in the clutches of what I like to call "Instant Karma"? I was hit with a mild case this afternoon at Starbucks when, immediately after helping myself to several generous handfuls of raw sugar packets at the milk bar (What? The office was out and they don't sell it at Walgreens!), I found myself treated to the kind of exceptionally poor customer service you write home about.

Halfway out the door, my grumbling soliloquy on the innumerable merits of doing one's job efficiently and pleasantly was interrupted by the realization that I just may have brought my bad service upon myself by angering the Gods of Ethical Behavior with my klepto ways. Then again, this is Starbucks we are talking about, so maybe this incident really didn't have that much to do with the Karmic Forces of the Universe after all...

Either way, I still think they owe me a few lousy sugar packets after the shameful amount I've spent on overpriced drinks throughout the years (not to mention the four months of barely-over-minimum-wage servitude). Ef off, Karma, this is between me and Starbucks.

patience

I get so impatient sometimes. I find myself, at times, growing so antsy and anxious for things to happen that I can almost feel the anticipation crawling underneath my skin. I convince myself that it must be now or never.

But then suddenly I am reminded that there can be beauty in taking it slow; simply taking each day and moment as it comes, for what it's worth. Without expectation.

And so I try not to feel the urgent need to rush, I attempt to enjoy the gradual unfolding of events, like the slow dance of unfurling petals as the flower opens to the world. I fight the urge to speed life by force, as I would pop stubborn fuchsia buds open as a child. I am wiser now and know that the delicate bloom may not survive the rash fluster of my impatience.

I know now that sometimes life requires a careful balance of patience and awareness. I can't coerce what's not ready to happen, nor can I sit back and wait passively. After all, a plant needs space to grow, but also requires the care of water and sunlight to flourish.

I must somehow be able to recocile the restlessness that wants to rush forward full speed, and the doubt that sometimes forces me to stand still.

reminiscence

Summertime.

The subtle waft of weed that permeates haight.

The lullaby of drums from hippie hill

pulsing a rhythm through my body,

setting a pace to the up-down of my feet.

I allow my mind to succumb to the pull of nostalgia;

all at once wandering the city streets of the present

and the bittersweet corridors of the past,

together, intertwined.

Immersing myself in memory of days and years gone by,

the friendly ghosts of reminiscence that haunt,

before coming back to reality at my doorstep.

And like a dream early woken from,

not quite sure whether to be sad of its end

or glad to be in the moment.

In the reality of here and now,

knowing how much I've grown,

celebrating the journey that's brought me to this very point in time.

I wonder:

when we are in these moments;

these strange snippets of time our minds like to clip and store away

in special catalogues of our ridiculously complex brains,

if we ever truly appreciate them for what they are,

these memories we will later hold as precious.

Do we know in the moment they happen

that this is something special,

something to be remembered?

Or do we only treasure the moment after it's gone.

Perhaps the knowledge that the mundane wanderings

of an ordinary afternoon

may someday be the subject of fond and wistful recollection 

should make them all the sweeter to us now.