Bicycling to the Gratitude Cafe

It's Sunday afternoon. Labor Day Weekend. Quiet. I am sitting in this small cafe realizing again that my life is far better than I deserved. And relishing that.

It helps to be sitting beside my beloved wife. We have bicycled over here. It helps also to be eating what seems the finest blueberry muffin ever created, drinking cool orange juice from a jar. Gratitude is a quality that rarely crossed my mind in youth, except in wilderness or crossing the country on a motorcycle. Increasingly it is my dominant mood. 

The owners reappear with their daughter, Quinn – and she is standing! Almost a year old, she can take steps, but only with a parent's hand touching one of hers, just to be sure. With a huge cat-ate-the-canary grin, she pushes forward. Her face registers what I have felt dirt-biking a little faster than I should have on rough ground, or skiing. A nameless, thrilling stew of excitement, uncertainty, 

concern, pride, and curiosity. Three or four steps and there's a chair to hold onto. A way station. She is just learning that these thin-metal chairs with colorful seat covers her grandmother made are helpful – but unreliable, because grabbing one when she's too unbalanced could pull it over on her. One of life's first delicate decisions? We applaud her, sparking another huge grin.

“She's testing everything,” her father tells me.

“Part of the job-description,” I reply.

“It's been an exciting time, keeping up with her lately. A lot's been happening.”

It is one of life's huge joys, this learning to walk. I feel privileged to witness a bit of it. Like briefly sharing the warmth of someone's campfire on a cold night in the forest.

I cover my face with my bicycle helmet, clowning. All I can see is her huge eyes, full of wonder. 

I do feel grateful often. I have been as selfish and thoughtless as the next guy, sometimes worse. My life seems good: I have enough to eat, a pleasant environment, love, and friends, etc. But this gratitude is not a product merely of my personal good fortune.

Sitting here, I want to remind everyone that simply contemplating our good fortune helps strengthen it. At least so long as we don't claim credit for it, let alone get all proud. I could look differently at my life: I am older than I ever thought I would be, and there are few grains of sand left in the top of the hourglass; I have not accomplished a serious fraction of what I aspired to, and perhaps could have done; I have never raised a child; I have had health problems; friends I loved have died; and there are zillions of wonderful places I will die without visiting. 

Please look up from the newspaper for a moment. Reflect on life. Start with the easy stuff: you can read a newspaper; we do not live in a war zone; and you probably are not uncertain where your next meal will come from. Then try the personal stuff: people who love you or make you laugh, especially children; the play you saw last night, the sweat you worked up gardening, or how you made everyone laugh during your weekly poker or bridge game. The hurdles you've cleared. The scent of rain in the air. 

That's all. Sorry if it sounds sappy. Sure don't mean to preach. But thanks for reading.

                                                            -30-

[This column appeared this morning, Sunday, 9 September 2018, in the Las Cruces Sun-News, as well as on the newspaper's website and on KRWG's website.  During the week a spoken version will air on KRWG Radio and on KTAL, 101.5 FM (stream at www.lccommunityradio.org)]

[The cafe is actually Nessa's, at Picacho and 2nd.  But as I sat there and started to feel what I wanted to write, "Bicycling to the Gratitude Cafe" seemed the right title.  (There actually was a Gratitude Cafe in the San Francisco Bay Area.  They had two or three of them -- with organic and maybe vegetarian food.  Dael introduced me to them. Might all be gone now.)  
As we unlocked our bicycles to leave, I reflected on the fact that we know two small, delightful cafes -- Nessa's and Beck's -- at each of which the couple owning and running the place has a young kid.  Here in Cruces we are fortunate in our coffee places: Nessa's and Beck's are small and pleasant; Milagro has the greatest coffee -- and Dael and I wrote our wedding vows there, before we'd even quite moved back here; lunch at Spirit Winds is a regular delight; and we have the Co+op and International Delights, and Boba's, as well as (more upscale) the Shed, Rendezbous, and Salud; plus the Cafe de Mesilla and the Bean in Mesilla.  Why would I ever go to some chain?!?!?]

[(added almost a week after the column above: I did have mixed feelings, though: using the title I had in mind meant the newspaper column didn't specifically mention "Nessa's."  But Dael, who was over there yesterday, saw a really neat sign, on which the part at the bottom was particularly fun for us.] 

[I do think that focusing on gratitude for what we have produces joy or contentment, and perhaps sharpens our ability to perceive good stuff; while focusing on disappointment or resentment produces disappointment or resentment, and magnifies all the bad stuff in view.   Stressing how the world is mistreating you can produce anger, and even a desire to lash out for revenge, while seeing more clearly how kind the world has been, despite everything, won't make you want to lash out, and might even engender a sudden impulse to give back.   
If you want to complain that I'm personally very fortunate, go ahead; I plead guilty, or at least nolo contendere; but once you've made that point, focus on your own life and choices.  Whether the glass is half-full or half-empty may be a trite issue; but it's usually one YOU CAN DECIDE for yourself.]  

[But I didn't mean to get preachy.  I just enjoyed a moment last Sunday and wanted to share it, is all.  And if anyone reading this is in the midst of some horrible suffering -- death of a child, diagnosis of a fatal illness -- I do not mean at all to make light of your suffering.]