Hello from Mary
October, the Holy Month for Poets and Dreamers
Memphis is having a beautiful fall season. I haven't
seen leaves changing such diverse colours of yellow,
rouge, and burnt orange in over ten years. I am
fortunate enough to peer out my kitchen window on a
daily basis and catch the leaves twirling a sky dance
to music by fleetwood mac or stevie wonder. Oh, the
joys of having one's life take place in a cafe.
Despite the wonderment of autumn, the rain showers of
colour, pumpkins to keep us company, and mums to
plant, the persistent hints of tranformation have a
tendency to tug at our hearts, asking us to give up
what we no longer need. In other words, I am feeling a
bit sad today. "I never could believe in the ways of
magic" Fleetwood Mac sings, "but I am beginning to
wonder why." This time of year is the perfect time to
believe in miracles and magic and the power of
transforming our lives. We sense the need to "empty
out" and maybe even get quiet within ourselves. I find
myself questioning everything. What am I doing with my
life? Where am I going? Sometimes the daily rountine
of life strikes me in the wrong way and I feel I am
doing nothing more than living out a re-run that
offers nothing new to learn or experience. Those are
bad days. And the questions keep flooding in. Such as,
am I really living the life I want to live? When I am
going to get to travel? Why is consummerism such a
driving force? Why do some people seem to be more
evolved than others? Why are there so many flys in my
kitchen. Some days are filled with killing flies and
cleaning up the mess. Those are bad days. And yes, the
questions keep flooding in and not just from me but my
customers. And I dont' have the answsers. I'm still in
love with the questions and that kind of attachment
can wear a person out. . .
With Halloween right around the corner, I have an
excuse to play dress up. I'm not interested in seeing
just how whorish I can dress. I have always felt
inclined to be "something pretty" as I like to put it,
which means a fairy with wings, a fairy princess, or
some excuse to wear a pretty dress. Or then there is
the option to be a fortune-telling gypsy (which my
friends tell me isn't much of a stretch). The whole
burden of deciding what to be sparked a conversation
with a friend of mine at the cafe. He lived in the
country growing up. In fact, his mom was the local
mail person. He said that he was probably one of the
few kids that lived withinn miles and when he finally
convinced his mom to get out and take him trick or
treating for Halloween, it was about 8 or 9p.m., a bit
late for trick or treaing. And as anxious as he was to
hustle to each house and get his bag full of candy, he
would soon be disappointed by the homemade popcorn
balls or wrapped cookies he would receive from the
locals. He said when the people at the house didn't
have anything to give him, they quickly came up with
something. A grandmotherly woman once offered to make
he and his mom dinner. Luckily, his mother declined so
he could get to the next house and get more candy.
Imagine the limitations of trick or treating in the
country. He recalled the time he got home to discover
64 cents in his candy baq. I am still laughing about
that image. Some enthusiatic kid showing up at the
neighbor's door expecting a candy bar and a grown-up
put on the spot, feeling the need to produce
something, and apparently unwilling to announce they
were without the precious candy that the child had
expected to receive, stood there scrounging through
their pockets and then with relief, dropped 64 cents
into their bag of candy, as if to say, "there, don't
say I never gave you anything." Oh, good times.
Remembering the days of candy. I can't wait to be that
grandmotherly woman excited to hear the doorbell ring.
Hmmm. Forget about it. Not going to happen. I don't
know where I will be but not waiting for the doorbell
to ring, unless it is a special delivery for that
money tree I ordered up so long ago.
Well, need to make some more coffee. Enjoy the season.
Be kind to yourself. Send yourself a letter. Remember
that the veils are thin right now. And your thoughts
are powerful.
Recently, I visited the Cape, saw the mighty ocean, and felt the powerful aftermath of a storm as it claimed the shoreline. It was a wonderful experience to see a new place and daydream looking over the waters. Before I returned home, I had the opportunity to wander around Cambridge for a day. Oh, what fun little shops, great vegetarian food, and people playing music on every corner. I felt happy to see people lounging outside, sitting on the grass, knitting or reading, or studying while consuming local coffee. I was reminded just how much I love seeing people gather in creative environments. It made me miss home. No matter where I wander, I seem to rediscover the magic of my own homegrown cafe in Cooper-Young. I was happy to return and see familiar faces sitting at the cafe bar and a new art show on the wall displacing colorful Amaryllis in bloom. Oh, and there was even a hand-written letter waiting for me from David Schmidt, another local artist who shows in November. I tell you, it made me feel good. We are so blessed to have the community we have here. It makes all the difference in the world. I know I will leave again, venture out to see what else the world has for me, but it is certainly a comfort to know at 2170 Young Avenue in Memphis, Tennessee, there are people who love me and always welcome me home. A big THANK YOU to Bet, Megan, Wesley, J.B., and Tanya for not only keeping things going but adding your own charm!