I walked fifty and fifty paces, divided by a subway ride, to get to this cafe.  A darkness feltered between clouds and a little rain manifested itself between fingers and ears in mysterious ways.  Its one of those days, grey with a chance to be brave.  Going to be an interested Tuesday.

I ordered toast and apologized for being one of those people that order things that aren’t on the menu.  Later I apologized for interrupting the cashier and a customer to ask what kind of bread they use…its delicious.  Sometimes there is a bit of uncertainty in my body and I can’t help it.  Its always been this way.  Then there are days or evenings during the week when I know myself and I move like a fox.  What is that?

Charm vs. scared, timid vs. timid-less. I wonder if that’s a word. Lets see if there’s a red line underneath it when I write it again… timidless…yes.

As I sat back down I laughed about this small struggle I’ve carried with me, a long time.

I laugh because honestly days are mysterious things.  They open up with lights that pool into my eyes and close with thoughts that burst like fireworks under the covers.  I want and I want and I’m ok and I did and I will do.  If meditation doesn’t silence that grade A ridiculousness than I don’t know what does.

At what point do I identify who and what I am? Do I feel it? In such a way that I can use it as a shield.  You meet a lot of men and women that use their “crisp sense of self” as the ultimate ass hole shield.  Untouchable and utterly worthless to the development of a collective union of others.

I remember being a waiter in New Jersey, there was a man that dressed in a suit, perfectly pressed shirt, blue tie, etc.  He was the biggest dick in the world.  You could see how many people have hated him throughout life on his chiseled face, his shoulders, walk, voice were all flags on the road to witnessing the ultimate tool.  He was the “fixer.”  Corporate had sent him to get our restaurant in picture perfect shape.  He pranced and marched around, in his expensive shoes threatening everyone with the most bizarre smile on his face.  One mistake and you were out he would say.  He knew we all despised him and he used himself as a shield, saying shit like “I’m not here to be liked,” well he wasn’t there to be particularly useful either.

And this is someone who “knows himself,” not timid but vastly confident.  The thing about people like this, is you wonder what they think about when they are alone.

Probably not much.

I believe that I find myself after I encounter others several times in the day.  Each hello and small talk a test to speak your mind, and I find myself asking, what is my mind?

The next waitress I meet I will not apologize to, because, and this is why I laughed, because the coffee hit me a few minutes ago and calm energy is foaming above the fact that one, I have been among people, two, nobody has offended my world, and three, I have done something I love, which is write.

But what do people think about before they encounter others in the morning? On the way to work.  I guarantee you its not, “I know myself, I am lovely, I am the ace in the hole, I will not apologize to the barista.”

Mr. toolface fixer upper definitely says stuff like this to himself and he probably eats barista’s for breakfast but I have a hard time believing this is genuine self love.

The world is a goofy place.

Tell me about your genuine self love?

Confidence is a by-product of listening to your heart.



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