I'm not good at eating out by myself. Certainly I love working at coffeehouses along with all of the other solo artists who are attempting to pump out a good day's living. But what I truly state as uncomfortable for me is actually eating out at a nice place, alone. That's what I'm doing this morning. I'm having brunch at a posh B&B in my own town.
The reason for this treason of self, is that the original plan was to take my gal pal to breakfast for her birthday. We had decided on a place where we had both been wanting to try, but hadn't done so yet (Winchester Inn, Alchemy Restaurant). We made reservations. This particular friend of mine is gorgeous in every since of the word and her style is fantastic - nothing overdone, but the girl has taste. So I looked in my closet and found the perfect thing---something I hadn't worn in awhile and it fit. Yay! It's going to be a good day.
I felt good. I had just finished a training and brainstorming session over rice puffs and coconut milk with another friend of mine who coaches me on the performance aspect of my speaking gigs, and who happened to be staying with me for a couple of days. I decided to save protein and coffee for brunch.
As I grab my phone to stick in my purse while heading out the door, I notice a text. Gal Pal can't go because something had come up for her daughter. Another phrase indicated her great disappointment and I knew this was true. The life of a busy mom who works full time---sometimes you just want to go to brunch on your birthday.
I called to cancel the reservation but every cell in my body was ready to roll. My authentic, successful self was dressed for poached something or another and an Americano. While on the phone, I ask the hostess if they have wifi. Yes. I explained my situation and asked if it was weird if I came in and worked on my laptop. Of course not.
Spending money on brunch just for me when I will be traveling next week seemed irresponsible. But the force was with this one and if nothing else in my life, I've learned to follow strong guidance when it beckons me. Staying home and changing into my jeans and t-shirt felt "against the grain".
It had rained hard last night and the air smelled fresh. The colors of my town looked French. My daughter called me from Ireland to ask me a question about her birth that her dad and she were debating while traveling together. I confirmed that she was the one who had the facts right, but I told her I wasn't surprised her dad couldn't remember. It was an intense birth and he was too busy helping me to keep it together to notice other details of the event. I wanted to ask where they were, maybe some old pub in Dublin, but I didn't have my earphones with me and we agreed I'd Skype her later.
I felt transported to Europe and the angst of eating alone disappeared, rather, it felt welcomed. I imagined myself heading to a corner cafe among painters and writers, sipping my espresso and documenting the snapshots of life---a toddler's curly hair and his parents trying to get him to sit still; the little dog who so faithfully and patiently lies quietly, waiting for that little nibble of sausage from his pampering owner.
As I drove to the restaurant, I noticed my amazing good fortune and knew this was one of those pockets-of-manifestation that happens to me occasionally. Embrace it, I told myself. Take it all in. This is a peek into my future by living in the vibration of it now.
When I arrived at my destination, I wanted to bail. It looked crowded and I reasoned that they had plenty of business this morning and wouldn't miss me. The only parking spot I could find was on a hill where I'd need to reverse going uphill. Making the decision to go back home, the "against the grain" voice boomed again. "For crying out loud, go inside". I had to admit it was a perfect parallel park job, so it encouraged me.
They gave me a lovely table overlooking a gorgeous garden. The owners, Michael and Lori were there and it was wonderful to connect with them after many years of not being in the same place at the same time. The bustling but relaxed and together wait staff made me realize that my stress was unfounded. All was perfect.
I'm realizing that Observation is my greatest companion. I made a breakthrough this morning, which I now know is the reason my Muse directed me here. As long as I have pen (or keyboard) in hand---my version of paintbrush---or just my own imagination as camera, I am never alone. The world longs to be seen. When any of us tap into the artist within, the world welcomes us in spite of ourselves.
