My Buddhist Brunch

Darn it! I missed a day.

I had been doing so well for about two weeks, not missing one morning with a little lesson to share with the world. I guess I can get away with it because I did two posts in one day this past week. Blah. No excuses. It's been a tough week, but I gotta get back in the groove. Because the longer you let it slip, the harder it is to climb back up. And this, my friends, is a hobby I want to keep at!

We all do, don't we? Even if we can't find things to write about, we should just write. That's what it's there for.

If only I could motivate myself to go the damn gym. Blogging's a little different in that regard...you get readers and supporters, and likewise you read other blogs and support them. At the gym, everyone is all stand-offish. You don't walk in and have a bunch of regulars go "Yo, Spontaneous! You work them Pecs today! Keep at it, brotha! Lookin' solid!" No, you have a bunch of people trying not to make eye contact with anyone else because you could smell the self-consciousness in the room.

I don't know why I had that person call me brotha right there.

It always interested me how most people like to try new activities and explore new ideas with supporters...friends...people they trust. Expanding your comfort zone is a serious skill that takes hard work to master. Fortunately, it creates what is called a "Virtuous Cycle" (the opposite of the dreaded Viscous Cycle) where the more you do it, the easier it becomes and the more you want to do it. It's exciting. You want to see how far you can push yourself. Even more amazingly, people are surprised to find out that they can push themselves pretty far.

This goes back to what I was saying on My Hump Day. We often say we can't do things, immediately dismissing it as impossible, just because of the word "can't." Most times, we really just don't want to. But it's easier to do if you've got someone willing to take the plunge with you!

Yesterday morning I had brunch with two friends of mine from my previous Starbucks job. The job was a complete freakin' nightmare, but if there was one thing that kept me sane while preparing coffee for endless drones, it was the wonderful people I worked with. We were in it together. When a summer Saturday night rolled around and we knew the place was going to be rampant with delinquent kids and homeless men looking to use our bathroom as a...well, a bath...my co-workers and I would strap on our aprons, stand up tall and say "Let's get this."

Felt like "300". Except it was 3. Against hundreds. And it wasn't our stamina we had to uphold, it was our patience.

Anyhoo, Diane and Aaron were two great friends that I made there and am happy to say I've kept in touch with since I left there in November. Diane is 28, I'm 25, and Aaron is about to turn the age of all ages, 21. Between the three of us, we've got this decade in our loves covered as far as experiences go. We've got lots to talk about. And it became apparent to Aaron and Diane, through conversations I had had singularly with both of them, that I was a spiritual guy. I was into Buddhism, introspection, working towards being a compassionate, aware, awakened human being. They were too. And they wanted to bring me in to talk with them so we could figure out a place to go, a meetup in the city, where they did guided meditations and had discussions. It sounded really wonderful, and it was quite nice to know that another two friends of mine very much valued my thoughts. Thoughts they called wisdom. I certainly wasn't trying to be modest, but I had to let them know they I barely knew more than they did, if I truly did. I have a lifetime of learning to go.

Afterwards, I spent about $200 at Target gathering materials to create a sleeping space in my new apartment. Air mattress, mattress pad, pillows, comforter, lamp. I hadn't owned this stuff since Los Angeles. And while I didn't particularly like parting with the money, since I don't have a whole lot saved just yet, it was a really nice feeling to know that this stuff was mine. I had a bed. I had my own pillows. These weren't my parent's, these weren't my sister's, this was MY stuff, in MY room.

That's enough to make any 25 year old feel good about themselves. :)

-Spontaenous K