People seem to make a habit, perhaps unwittingly, of selectively hearing only what they want to hear. It frustrates me, because I’m the kind of person who endeavours to say exactly what he means, without subtext or innuendo. Some believe the explanation for this has to do with being “open” or “closed”, but to that I say bollocks. Being open in that context is little more than being totally and ridiculously vulnerable with every aspect of self. Hearts yet need to be guarded. Certain vital elements yet need to be treasured.
When someone who is close to you does this – hears what they want to hear, rather than what’s being said – it’s damaging. In some cases, irreparably so. And a damaged friendship cannot continue as it was. A part of you dies and experiences its own kind of grief, which evidences the deep connection longed for, having become newly impossible.
What was is truly gone, and yet the longing still pains.
I make the active decision, now and continually, never to lose the sense of wonder at all the truly wondrous things of life. Retain the wonder, and eliminate the chance of ever becoming hopelessly mired in the banal repetition of the day to day.
I laughed aloud when I read it, and so I will share this with you:
Tarry thou not to count the seconds, neither cast thy glance onto thy cup, lest thou displease the espresso gods. But fix thy eye instead upon the goodly flow that issueth forth from thy portafilter. Let not this flow persist onto its paling. For to drink of the pale flow is an abomination onto the espresso gods, who will curse thy taste buds onto the seventh generation. Instead, end thy shot when the flow paleth, and thou and thine tastebuds will be blessed unto the end of thy days.
Paradventure thou findest that thy cup is lean; setest thou thy grinder to make a rougher meal of thy coffee. Paradventure thou findest thy cup overflowing, setest thou thy grinder to make a finer meal of thy coffee. For it pleaseth the espresso gods that the flow paleth with the filling of thy cup to its measure.
And if thou wouldst dwell in the land of espresso, serve not unto another an espresso thou wouldst not drink thyself. For remember thou wast once a stranger in a strange cafe.
(Apologies to Moses, King James, and Monty Python.)
You know, life never gets less interesting, does it? Things are ridiculously busy at the moment, there’s just so much going on that anything more would be the end of me. Doesn’t mean I’m not having fun, it’s just that any extra ongoing responsibility would roleplay the mouse symbolically climbing up the back of the camel…
My quick closing remark, enunciated offhandedly at some unearthly hour by a wiser man than I, has a brevity that belies its depth. All my busyness will always be an expression of my freedom.
“You’re not imprisoned unless you don’t feel free.”
Let me present a quote from the end of The Shawshank Redemption:
“I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged – their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice; but still the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone.”
I would be that person.