Month: August 2017

I arrive early to catch up on a bit of work before the friend arrives. I open the laptop and dive into the world that is work after hours. The waitress arrives and asks if I want to move seats. She sees me by myself and so assumes I need to be rescued. I may be alone, but I am not lonely.

She thinks I will feel more comfortable tucked away in a corner. I am fine in the middle of the room, but I smile at her thoughtfulness. I put in half hour’s work before shutting down as soon as my companion enters my view.

As always, she raises good points. She is the worrier. I’m the dreamer. She asks me to hold back a little instead of jumping head in. I can’t help myself, I say! How many people do we meet that charges and electrifies every fiber of our living cells? I can count them all in one hand. She agrees.

I agree with her mantra. The Mission of Self is the most important. We must come out on the other side, with the goal not being unscathed, but better and stronger from the previous version. Retain but not hold back the self in the interest of the other person. To love others, we must always love ourselves first. Embrace the whole person inside. Otherwise, how can we embrace someone else outside of our body?

With you, the time comes to a complete standstill. Once at work, I turn in a zombie. It’s okay, but it’s kind of killing me a little. Productivity is zilch, but not everything can be rainbows and gold drops. The downside must also be experienced and rejoiced. Without the upside, there is no downside.

A quick dinner turns into a 7-hour affair. I guess I should have known better. Knowing and doing are two complete things, aren’t they?

It’s cold and I should have worn my jacket, but out I am already and it’s too late to get back inside. Along with 700 others, I run my first 5k of the year and clock in my best time. On the way back, I take a picture of the Mexican restaurant to share the past memory with a friend long gone. When will I see him again, I have no idea.

Man walks alongside a train with his kids to capture this moment in time forever. The guys in the coffee shop make fun (nothing bad) and I chuckle inside.

A petite woman wears her bag in front of her. What is she afraid of? Who is going to snatch the content of her bag away from her small frame?

A small family of three pause for a photo. The little girl is all bundled up. She waddles along while her parents pose her for a photo. Behind her is the Table Mountain draped in grey and white clouds to protect its jewels from prying eyes. The fingers dance along to the melody of my imagination freed from the routine every day of the hustle up north. I crackle with joy inside, and my feet shake along to the rumba of the music just outside of the cozy café. Oh how happy do I feel?

I wonder if I should leave for the weekend. I’ll be missing a friend’s birthday. A friend’s visit. Time with the special someone. A ticket has been bought, and a commitment has been made. I race to the airport a bit tired. I did get up at 5am again, an impossible time for me.

The sun sets, and I see the same fusion of the day exiting as the night peeks over the horizon. The Uber driver is shocked to find that I’ll be staying with strangers I’ve never met. The strangers become fast friends as we gulf down homemade tacos. I tuck in for the evening warm and fuzzy inside. I am glad I came.

The light played many a games with me, starting with the fire in the kitchen. Often, the object of our interest is too bright or too far for further study. Often, the only way to glimpse into its depth is through its reflections. Its rays of warmth reflected, winked and waved at me joyously as I drove past big and shiny buildings. Walking in, I turned my gaze to my left to marvel at the side of the building. The same sun shed the shadows of trees, blocks of reflection from the buildings window and I smiled at the little joys of life that often allude the most of us.

I knew it would be hard to say goodbye. It always is. How can you say bye to the thing that gives you so much joy? Promises made must be kept, and so I rush out half hour too late. The everyday gift of friendship awaits me and share with me their exciting news.

Something dark. Something sweet. A response to your gentle gesture. It is baked. It is made. I’m not quite sure how I’ll get the treats to you and your home abode. And so, I ask whether you’re free. You answer with a call, and you come. You come and eat, and I have no more food left. Oh, my!

That is all. There isn’t much to tell.

Oh my, my, my, my. I have been all over the city and one of the keys has fallen off. Does this happen? Apparently so. At first, I seek the assistance from the locksmith. But maybe I was too haste. Instead, I climb in through the window. When I get inside, I have to get back outside the same way I came in. The spare key is with someone else, and my keys, wallet and all the things I bought are still outside. I wedge the purchased items through the metal gate. I grab my keys and push through the bathroom window once again. A cut on the hand, and sympathy sought. The call is answered and another magical day awaits the Sunday night.