I heard something I really liked on the travel channel yesterday from a lady talking about hand made doughnuts. "It's not perfect, but it's beautiful." I think I am going to say that to myself when I am looking in the mirror. No comments on how that connects me to doughnuts!

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patience

I heard this on the writer's almanac this morning, thought it was a funny commentary on patience.

Your Punishment in Hell
by Gary Leising


Someone will douse a cobra in gasoline,

light the sucker, and shove it headfirst

down your throat. It'll speed straight

through your esophagus, unfurl

its hood to fill your stomach

then begin to strike and strike and strike

and strike and strike: fangs pierce

your stomach, venom pours in,

the little burn of incipient ulcers

grows quick, paralysis sets in.

Your lungs stop before your brain,

before your hand, which lifts

to your mouth the plastic-lidded

paper cup holding the caramel

macchiato cappuccino with a double

shot of espresso and frothed soy milk

topped with two shakes of cinnamon

and no, NO (yes, you said no twice)

sugar that was made for you

slowly, while I, already running late,

waited behind you for a simple,

already-made black coffee.

You will lose all motion before

that drink reaches your mouth,

but you recover and the drink,

strangely, has vanished, and barrista

and cobra-douser-slash-lighter do it all again

and again. I know this because,

for my angry impatience,

I am behind you in line in hell

forever, the pot of black coffee

behind the counter steaming,

turning, I know, bitter.


"Your Punishment in Hell" by Gary Leising from Fastened to a Dying Animal. © Pudding House Press, 2010. Reprinted with permission.

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Sometimes a look can say so much

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a rough day.  It was our busy time at work and I was super stressed out.   So I am walking from the office to the metro, in my own world thinking about work problems, chewing on my lip, focusing on the ground so I don’t trip (which I am wont to do), when a stroller wheel comes into my field of vision.  I reflexively glanced up at the toddler riding in said stroller, and look right into his adorable, chunky little face.  He had a smile plastered on, and that joy in his eyes you don’t often see in children over a certain age.  I was mesmerized by his twinkling brown eyes; they snapped me right out of my world and, for just a moment, brought me into his.  A world where everything is amusing and fun; a world that knows no stress, no pain, no worry.  I felt so happy in that moment, I simply had to share it with someone.  I looked up to his mother pushing the stroller, and I just beamed at her.  With my eyes I said to her, “what a wonderful being you have in your stroller, how lucky you are to have someone like that in your life.  All the worries of my day have been erased just by looking into his eyes for one second, you must be so proud.” 

And the mother?  She beamed right back at me.  As I turned my gaze up at her, she was already staring right back at me with a huge smile.  The glimmer in her eyes said right back at me, “I know, isn’t he wonderful?  He does that for me every single day.  I could not have asked for a more precious, amazing gift, thank you for recognizing it also.  I am glad someone else was able to experience this with me.”   To anyone walking on the other side of the street, they would have seen nothing more than strangers sharing a fleeting glance and a smile as they hurried about their days, they have no idea how much we shared in that moment.

I have forgotten the child, truth be told, but not the mother.  I have thought of her and her bliss often since then, and every time it makes me feel a little warm inside.  I often see women who seem to take their children for granted, especially as the ride the subway home after a long day with a tired child at their side, or who think you rude when you look at their children.  It is not often I see women who take such open and unbridled joy in their children, and are so happy to share it with you.