Get your mind out of Paris!

by

And into the present moment.  Yes, I am totally stoked that I’m in the process of moving and finding out about school and visas and passports and finding the perfect pair of walking flats (Al’s in North Beach), and the perfect French man to snog with again.  Wonder if Philippe is still in the Montemarte?  However, I’ve forgotten about the here, the now, the lovely, delicious, delightful San Francisco.

So, I returned the French immersion cd’s to the library today and have given myself the day off from daydreaming and stayed, to the best of my abilities, to be in the present.  As I have been oft told, that is where the magic is, it is the gift.  And my present is pretty stunning, my life is simple, but so abundant, and I am so taken care of.  I can spare a moment or two to myself to actually enjoy what is happening right now.

Hot tea in the mug, decaf, it’s late.  Two cozy white cats lounging about.  The sound of rain falling outside my window.  The cable car lines humming, the rumbling cars trundling down the hill.  A sweet apple with salt and nutmeg and cinnamon and ginger and pumpkin pie spice sprinkled all along its crisp flesh.  A hot shower after riding my bike home in the rain.  My feet encased in cozy slippers.  Jazz on the Ipod player.  Soft light pooling under the rocking chair.  The Good Wife downloading to my computer.

The present is awfully good.   And it’s nice to allow myself the moment to enjoy it without future tripping on how I’ll get into school or where I’ll live next, or how much money I have to save or whether the dollar will have a better conversion rate on the Euro when I go.  If it would make more sense to buy a bike over there when I get there.  How will I go bike shopping in Paris?  Or, would it make better sense to just use the bike system that’s in place?

Oops.  There, I’m off again and running.  Back to Chet Baker, take another sip of tea.  Feel the soft furry slippers, faux fur, but still furry feeling, the drowsy heat radiating from the hot water pipe in the corner, the smell of Mexican cocoa wafting from my candle indulging at Rainbow.  The tick tock of the clock.  I still have to get the clock I bought at the flea market, not Clingancourt, the other one which is not quite so big, in Paris, that stopped running about a month after I brought it back.  I keep intending to take it to a clock repair shop and then it slips my mind.  I find it rather quaint that it’s always five of five.

Well, apparently, it’s not much use, my mind wants to dwell in Paris.  And that’s ok brain, you don’t know any better.  But I have to say, the right now is pretty rocking.

The right now, where everything is just right on.

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