[Alright, fully two weeks since the last post. Randomness at its best.]
The randomness of the last fortnight has been extreme and at times, bizarre. So much of interest has happened among relatively less of non-interest that I’m cruising through the journey of life with plenty to ponder.
Communication, for example. That’s the context of this entry’s title. I am communicating to you now, and hopefully communicating with you as well. [That is, provided that you are actually reading this… Because otherwise I’m just speaking to the void, or worse, myself.] See, the random events in the last fortnight have much to do with communication. If you can clearly impart what you mean with the perfect intonation, deft wit, gentle tact and cunning humour, you’ve got it made. However, if you miss the mark, even just a little bit, you end up offending people, getting them offside, or find yourself with an awkward hiatus and some poorly veiled uncomfortable glances.
It’s tough sometimes, to tread the fine lines in life. How tolerant should you be when communicating issues of passion, conviction or personal importance, particularly in a society that loves postmodernism yet will not be postmodern about its postmodernity? How bad should you feel, for example, when deciding not to actually go out your way to visit a mere acquaintance when the visit becomes both unneccessary and excessively inconvenient? Here’s a hint: people don’t generally welcome a guilt trip.
It’s difficult sometimes, to say “no” to something in order to say “yes” to a more philosophically grand life concept which may need no real immediacy or critical urgency. Especially when it seems like letting down the people you value; you could do it, you are able to do it, but you won’t, for no other reason than that you perceive a need for x hours’ more #1 time.
All that sounds rather negative, though. There is so much going on which is positively positive! When you mop up a communication faux pas with a new friend, for example, the world seems so much brighter. When you decide that life is worth far more than the momentary stresses and inhale deeply, savour and exhale the crisp Autumn air to expunge the feelings of self-imposed stressful claustrophobia from your being. When the movie/show/article/conversation you’re experiencing contains pithy wisdom so close to being clichÃ©d that it attempts to sneak into blissful oblivion and yet arrests your thinking so instantaneously that you gasp sharply and your pulse quickens. Do take time for yourself. Do breathe deeply. Do smell the [insert rose substitute]s. Do feel free to just be.
When life cannot get any better, and it does.
Many of us fully intend to discover the one special significant other who gazes into your soul, colours a dark dreary Monday morning with the sound of their voice, transfixes with their smile and plainly makes you almost burst with nothing more than purest contentment. I am no different to many of us, in my own completely unbiased opinion. If you happen to be waiting for me or someone, be safe, well and happy. The time will come when it will come (how unfortunately and yet romantically imprecise!). I’m waiting…
Farewell for another random period, gentle reader. Be random.
Have you ever deliberately taken time to just sit and look? It’s like smelling the roses, except there don’t have to be any roses and you’re not focusing on olfactory stimulation…
Uni started back this week for me (as if I’m a 3rd-year Uni student already), so there have been a number of times when there really was nothing going on. I sat myself down in The Circle on campus a couple of times this week, just watching the worlds of so many people go by, taking in a tiny snippet of everybody else’s life. A random fixation on random encounters with people who don’t even know I’m randomly encountering them!
The Circle is a large, paved … circle, which is bang in the middle of the central outdoor flight of stairs at my Uni. Heaps of people go through there every day. Students dashing through on their own at 13 minutes past the hour, late for lectures/tutes/yoga. Old ladies from the bowls club with Pookie or Esmerelda in tow. Larger mobs of people of whatever affiliation you can dream up: ethnicity, fashion, faculty, faith, hobby, boredom.
Having been on campus for 2 full years already has its advantages. You know where most things are, have a better-than-vague idea where to head for quick shelter or warmth when it rains/hails/snows, and have worked out where the best places to eat or sleep are. It’s about now that I realise, just sitting, watching, that I’ve made a large number of contacts while at Uni – more than I had imagined.
First impressions count, despite the clichÃ©, and particularly so with people. There are those you meet who could slip away into the crowd and be obliterated instantly by banality. There are, on the other hand, those people you meet who you can tell instantly will be great value and valued greatly. I’ve experienced both of these extremes recently, and while I strive to remember all the names for faces I know, the “high value” people are simply exciting. They’re the kind of people you anticipate meeting again, looking forward to an undefined occasion sometime in the future which is certain to add something purely wonderful to life’s memories.
And “in closing”, something I found quite profound. If you knew you’d never see someone ever again, how would that change the way you say goodbye?
Why should a normal goodbye be any different?
Today’s rf is more reflective and philosophically romanticised than the preceding ones, but don’t let that detract from it’s content. It’s real and I like it.
Tonight I spent time with people I value. There was no need for pretenses, no facades, no secret agendas. There is a simple goodness in the ability to take time to just be. Of course, there was good coffee involved, but we’ve covered that here already. Just being real, that’s all it takes.
Smile. I am!
For the first time in a very long time, I made good coffee today. You must realise that when I say “good coffee“, especially when I say it in bold like that, I really mean that the coffee I made was outstandingly brilliant for home espresso. Like, forget Buongies or any other cafÃ©, it was simply stunning. Me, my Carezza, my tamp and my Illy are now a fantastic quartet of the production of caffeinated liquid enjoyment.
The tamp is a new addition to my coffee fixation. Got it yesterday (Greg, you’re a legend!), and the two shots of Illy last night were wonderful. This morning I made four cups with the single basket, of which two were great and one was just a comparison (Vittoria preground Oro). Gotta cram the coffee into the portafilter (and nearly choke the poor Gaggia) but the result is crema-topped golden goodness.