The internet in my building wasn’t working. I had to venture down to one of the local coffee shops to get some work done. I’m usually all for the communal work environment. I’m building one of my own, after all. In this particular instance, though, I was really trying to be ‘good.’ Which in my world means not spending an exorbitant amount of money on my fancy coffee drink of choice and instead making my own and consuming it in my overpriced lobby, where I can work just as efficiently. So I was flustered when I sat down and couldn’t connect. Flustered again when I got to the coffee shop and realized I hadn’t brought my wallet. Flustered a third time when I returned, wallet in hand, and the woman behind the counter exclaimed, “Oh! I didn’t think you were coming back.”
In my enlightened economical state, I opted for a pot of tea over my usual soy latte concoction. I let the barista choose her favorite green variety for me.
On first sip I was immediately transported to the Japanese Tea Garden inside Golden Gate Park. (The oldest public Japanese garden in the US, I just learned.) I loved that place. I felt so fancy and worldly sitting in the pavilion, sipping a warm cup of tea, nibbling arare and cookies, and looking out over the lovely gardens.
All of a sudden, that flustered feeling left and I was glad for the momentary flashback. Wishing my tea drinking was indeed taking place in the serene gardens instead of in this bustling city setting.
It was such a vivid memory. It almost struck me physically. The smells, the sounds, the tastes. I didn’t know I remembered that memory – where had it been waiting all these many years? And how fascinating that a world away, a lifetime away, it came back so uncontrollably strong. How fascinating we human beings are, in ways not even we, the keepers of these types of experiences, can understand.
Here’s to another day of creativity…