Saturday, March 8, 2014

A personal day

The city is waking up as you walk to the bagel shop for a sandwich and coffee on your way to the garage. Chipper 20something students in fresh eyeliner. Vigorous adults hustling to work, muttering about traffic and construction. Delivery trucks. Someone hums a tune. The barrier gate arm won't raise when you flash your remote, so you call the help desk and they radio the arm to let you out. Fill up the tank on your way to the repair shop, where either the desk staff or fellow customers can direct you, with gestures and precise distance measures, to the bus stop. Climb over the 3 foot crown of ice on the sidewalk and wait 3 minutes for the next bus, feeding your $5 into the vending machine as the driver politely explains and hands you a transfer card. Relocate your seat 2 minutes later as he chats up the next passenger and folds up the seats to make room for the wheelchair. Get off at the first stop downtown, and walk home in the sunshine, listening to the birds above. 
Cozy up near the window, blue skies at your shoulder as you skim over the news. A phone call from your mechanic, informing you that "it would be criminal" to replace the part the dealer said you needed, since apparently you do not. The only disappointment is your unspent bus fare.
Its easier to fill up with love when it isn't being siphoned out of you by the needs of others. I am a really happy person who sometimes gets sucked dry, but who also knows some magic. One of my most potent spells: "Take a Personal Day." Nothing makes me feel richer or more pampered. My own company is this pretty amazing thing. Some exercise, some creature comforts, a small challenge or two over which to feel mastery. I find new treasure rooms full of sparkles. I can offer you care and patience as a transmogrifier of the love that is poured into me, from my town, from the earth, from my self.

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