A note from the author: This entry deviates a bit from the general tone of Madeleine Davies Aims to Please. Regardless, here it is. If you're displeased, rest assured that I will return Monday with the usual poop jokes and dinosaur references. XO, my dearests.
I am having one of those rare days where it seems the Universe and I are plugged into one another. Objectively, nothing spectacular has happened, though everything feels electric and welcoming. Too often do I feel in contention with the world around me, like I’m a malformed puzzle piece or a sixth finger on an otherwise functioning hand. Things like the way people treat one another can confuse me to the point where I’m barely functioning. My inability to accept the general lack of compassion that I see on the subway or at the corner store or waiting in line at the bank feels like a deficiency on my part, as though there’s something wrong with me for wanting people to be kind to one another.
Today is different, though. I am in sync. I smile at the people who serve me my coffee and don’t let it bother me when they don’t smile back. At the very least, they’ll register my contentment and, hopefully, catch some of their own. I don’t worry when I repeatedly spill coffee on my new sweater. I am clumsy and, for today, this is endearing. I walk down the trendiest street and don’t care whether or not anyone is judging my backpack or shoes because my backpack is full of apples from the farmers market and my shoes are doing a terrific job of taking me where I want to go. Everyone should be so lucky to have shoes and a backpack like mine. I cut through the back streets and notice amazing copper roofs, winding fire escapes and old churches that I’ve never seen before. Little kids zoom past me on their bikes, shouting in Spanish.
I feel so lucky to be alive in Brooklyn at this moment.
I realize that I’ve never walked more than a block East of my apartment before and decide that now is the perfect time to change that. It’s overcast and cool, but I’m comfortable in my coffee-stained sweater and threadbare jacket—comfortable enough for new discoveries and quiet adventure. Less than two blocks from home there’s a massive fenced-off building, a former hospital made of brick with arches and smokestacks. It’s stunning in its overgrown way. I circle the grounds then head back to my barely furnished apartment.
In my kitchen, putting away my market purchases, I have an epiphany: I’ve just had the perfect date with myself. I was (and am) funny and charming, a fantastic ball of chaos. I am good company for myself. I am fortunate to know me. This is the most perfect form of egoism.
It’s all too possible that tomorrow will be different. I could wake up grumpy and annoyed with myself for forgetting to send an e-mail or sleeping too late. This surprising bout of serenity could dissolve at any moment, but this afternoon by myself was too perfect to feel anything besides an overwhelming and immense love. It's a love for me, for all of you and for an earth that has so much to give just as long as I am open to it.