After a series of naps, answering emails and chugging dayquil I escaped quarantine and ventured to a small coffee shop around the corner.
Last night the barista sung out soulful R&B tunes in-between serving drinks disinterestedly. Later, I popped my headphones off and listened to her rant to her friend about the inequality of the public school system.
Tonight I walked in to get a caffeine fix, two male baristas sat in the strangely empty space that had been filled the night before.
The pastries that normally sit in a glass display were by the door in a box.
“Would you like one?”
“Ah, hm”, I eyed the blueberry muffin for a possible free breakfast tomorrow. ”No thanks”, I smiled. “Do you normally get rid of them at the end of the day?”
“Yeah we usually give them to homeless people.”
I paused. “Oh, well they definitely need them more than me!”
He read my name from my debit card and we all chatted—they both had only been here for a few years from Russia.
I’m struck by how often we forget to treat others like humans.
They offer me a free macaroon from behind the counter. I ask “Which one’s your favorite?” He points to a pistachio one, I thank him.
As I walked home I recalled the nail salons I treat myself to and the diligent women who file away.
I often ask them about their children, and if they miss their favorite cuisines from back home. They nod and smile surprised, always saying in a few words that they do. I ask for recommendations for places to eat authentic cuisine and try to pronounce their names— because in the end that’s all we want right?
To be remembered.
I see the people others pass by. I have the privilege of knowing.
‘If the girl had been worth having she’d have waited for you?’ No, sir, the girl really worth having won’t wait for anybody.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (via katiearmour)
Bought my first piece of art for the apartment! Couldn’t resist, it was so gorgeous. #nofilter #MarilynMonroe
The strange and beautiful truth about the adjacent possible is that its boundaries grow as you explore them. Each new combination opens up the possibility of other new combinations. Think of it as a house that magically expands with each door you open. You begin in a room with four doors, each leading to a new room that you haven’t visited yet. Once you open one of those doors and stroll into that room, three new doors appear, each leading to a brand-new room that you couldn’t have reached from your original starting point. Keep opening new doors and eventually you’ll have built a palace.
Live in the future, folks.
“Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving.” Neil Gaiman’s 8 rules of writing.
Lamb taquito heaven (at Hell’s Kitchen)
Madison Square Park #nofilter (at Madison Square Park)
Beautiful new meditation center, an oasis after the storm. (at Kadampa Meditation Center New York City)