Monday, September 12, 2011

IT IS HARD TO BE SHADY IN SUNNY L.A.


I love the smell of Napalm in the morning.

I am NOT a morning person. It is without a doubt my most bitchiest time of the day.

I hate everyone. Especially those happy “Good Morning!” types. I want to slap these bitches. So I keep to myself during the early part of the day and have only three goals:

1. Find the closest Starbucks and caffeinate. Immediately.

2. AVOID ALL HUMAN INTERACTION. TALK TO NO ONE.

3. Simply get through the morning.

It’s a fairly simple plan that helps me ease into my day until I’m ready to rejoin civilization somewhere around 11am. But this past Friday, it seems the universe had an entirely different set of plans for me. This was not a typical weekday morning. 

7:30am meditation sitting group
It began with a meditation class which is by no means a regular part of my day. I dabbled in meditation last Spring during a stressful time at work when a jealous co-worker was making my life a living hell. I must’ve told this person off in my head at least 79 times a day! (I tell off A LOT of people in my head). I literally gave myself migraines and sought some relief. I stumbled onto this weekly meditation group and found it was a great way to relieve stress and silence all the noise between my ears. 

Anyway, I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, worrying about money and my next career move since I recently became unemployed. For the SECOND time. So I decided to drop by an early morning meditation session to clear my head.

Meditate on this I will.

As soon as I arrive, I’m off to a bad start. I’m cranky. I’m exhausted. And worse, I’m uncaffeinated as I peeled myself out of bed and had no time to grab coffee. Then I start to meditate and my brain simply WILL NOT QUIET DOWN— bombarded by worries, plans of action, the occassional ‘man you suck at this’ and that awful "On the floor" J Lo song that hasn't stopped playing since I woke up. I. AM. HATING. LIFE.

Following the meditation is a brief 5-10 minute discussion where we get the opportunity to share what’s on our mind. Yeah, um, I’ll pass. I won’t be “sharing” anything today, thanks.  I’m far too annoyed, and I want coffee.

Now normally these talks tend to focus on how hard it is to quiet our minds. But on this day, rather unexpectedly, a woman shares with the group that her teen son is very sick. Apparently, he suffered a sudden and unexplained mental breakdown. And though he is receiving round-the-clock treatment, she feels ill-prepared to handle something as scary and foreign as mental illness. She is in a lot of pain and fears for her son’s health.

SHE STARTS TO CRY… AND THEN LOOKS RIGHT AT ME!

My mind is a total and complete blank for the first time all morning. Um, thank you?

This is a lot to process at 8:30am. So much raw emotion staring me in the face. I want to help this woman. But HOW?!! What could I possibly say to ease her pain?! I feel helpless. And after a long moment, my eyes tear up and everything gets real blurry. 

 
And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say that the Grinch's small heart
grew three sizes that day.

I want to hug her. But you can’t go from “mad shady morning person” to “sympathetic people hugger” in one day. It’s too big a leap. All I can really do is listen. After she composed herself, she tells us that it felt good to speak about her troubles aloud. And that our listening gave her great comfort. It seems I made the right choice.

9am Zumba class
Afterwards, I head to the gym to Zumba and Salsa my ass off for the next hour. It’s exactly what I need to shake off the lingering weird feeling after meditation class.

Our instructor is on fire this day! I get a really great workout and even manage to loosen up and have some fun (normally I'm frustrated I can’t follow the choreography. I’m not a natural dancer). When the music stops, I’m approached by this woman who often joins me in the shady section of class, in the last row, by the exit. She talks excitedly to me about class and wants to know, “hey, how come I didn’t see you at Saturday’s class?” Sheer laziness. We talk for a bit more as we walk out together.  

Then it hits me. Wait, I have a “Zumba friend”? When did that happened?! And we’re TALKING and LAUGHING together! Must be the endorphins. I never talk to anybody at the gym. I’m not myself this morning. Clearly. 

10am COFFEE!!
I head to this tiny cafĂ© near the gym to finally get a cup of coffee. And I decide to treat myself to breakfast, even though I really shouldn’t spend money. I just needed a moment. Alone. With my annoying thoughts. 

Suddenly, the owner pops up to make an announcement. He informs us that the man sitting beside me is a loyal patron named Daryll and that today is his 75th birthday. So he would like us all to join him in singing happy birthday. As the waitresses appear with cake, I join everyone else in singing the most joyous, boisterous rendition of this song that’s ever been performed. It’s like a damn Glee episode!

Daryll is moved. A love fest erupts. The waitresses snap pics. And the owner says….

BREAKFAST IS ON THE HOUSE EVERYBODY!!

It’s 10:15am. And I have the biggest smile on my face. What a strange day it's been.

All I wanted when I woke up was a quiet, peaceful morning BY MYSELF. Instead, I comforted a woman in pain. I made a new gym friend. And I helped a nice 75-year-old man celebrate his birthday in a special way.

Despite my initial plans, it turned out to be a really good morning.

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