Monday, January 9, 2012

Potrero Peace and Plow

There are so many different types of days. There are work days, holi-days, vacation days, good days, bad days. There are days when we are scheduled to the hour, without a minute to breathe. There are days when there are no plans, yet we are still unable to relax. It's as if relaxing is your one, single goal that there's too much pressure to achieve. Then there are days when everything falls into place. When spontaneity calls and you answer. When you forgot to tell yourself to relax and then, suddenly, you relaxed.

You eat your French Toast from Plow before your savory egg dish arrives because you tell yourself: that's how the Europeans do it. Like pasta before salad. Or dinner at midnight.

You meander through the aisles of a bookstore, only stopping when you see the ever-classic combination of words: Shakespeare. Love. Sonnets. You forget what once existed, because everything is new. Even that which is hundred of years old.

You feel so loving towards your friends and everything that feels real. I loved seeing Anne Zimmerman's An Extravagant Hunger in the cooking section at Christopher's Books. I loved seeing it face-out, booming like the sunshine.

You feel the sunshine and see the blue sky on a clear day. Addresses, apartments, houses, locations, all seem relevant. People's places are theirs, and yours to dream about. Imagine of. First you think you know what's inside, then remembering you don't know what happens behind closed doors. Even when you're behind them, you still sometimes have no clue what's going on.

You're very behind on trends, hipness and what's cool. You wait until you're ready. You save the goodness for a day when you need something, guaranteed to blow your mind. Because everyone's mind was already blown. So you know that, one day, so will yours. You wait, though, because you can.

You remember why you walked slowly today. Why you waited an extra ten minutes without even trying. Why you forgot the time, which made you always on time. Why you didn't plan, agonize or worry. You remember why you wore the wrong shoes, why you didn't mind sweating. Why you smiled at someone across the street and laughed when sidewalk traffic got too close.

Why you once made rules and broke them. You remember why you stopped in your tracks. Why you peered through the fence, past the bleachers and the broken beer bottle. Why you felt, in that one moment, a joy, a peace, a happiness. You felt silent and then remembered why you keep on going.


  1. this is such a pretty post, yet all I have to say is...HUNGER GAMES! YAY! wish i were at the beginning!

  2. Thanks, sweet friend. I love the image of my book blooming (and just as it blooms again, in paperback!)

  3. Love this post. Glad to hear you had a day in which you slowed down and just listened and looked. We all need that kind of a day. It sounds very restorative.

  4. Wonderful thoughts and so beautifully written. I hope I have a day like that soon, although I know it can't be planned.

  5. I just have to say that I've had so many of these unexpected, simple yet so gentle and profound days, but only in San Francisco. Thanks for capturing this joy.

  6. Murakami, yay!!! I adore Murakami, but haven't read his new book yet. I am going to order it on Amazon right now.

  7. such beautiful words, and a nice reminder to observe and take it all in. love you!

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  9. this is a stunning post, meggie. there is just something to special about words, thoughts and days that meander.

    enjoy this pace and peace. be sure to look back at it as you rip-roar through hunger games!

  10. I lost myself in this post. So beautiful. xo

  11. You captured so effectively that feeling that otherwise has no name!
    ...I'd call it 'serendipity' with its part 'spontaneous happening' and 'wisdom', but these words are too static... - and you captured it spot on.
    I so enjoyed the part about waiting for the right time to read what is trendy, the part about the wrong shoes, and the beginning about the right time.
    With greetings from across the seas and from a very small country in the hinterlands, Greta