Ah, the marvellous world of cafes.
A cafe is not merely a place to hastily gulp down a cup of coffee before running off again. I have spent many an hour sitting in a cafe, and the drink is only a very small part of the whole experience.
A good, comfortable cafe can be a place, as someone once said, for people who enjoy solitude in the company of others. Or it can be a venue for great conversation with good friends, with lovers, with would-be lovers, with family, with people you have known all your life, and people you have only just met that very moment. It can be a reward for a difficult task well done, as well as a place to relax in-between appointments. To the travelling yoga teacher, it often serves as an office, and somewhere to take a break after one class, before the next begins.
For me, more than anything else, it is a place where I can sit and watch the world go by, either alone or in the company of a loved one. And by the world, I certainly don't just mean the outside world, but also the internal world of the mind. And more often than might be expected, fascinating encounters can take place. Two instantly spring to mind, one rather dramatic, the other a great deal more innocuous, yet striking nonetheless.
A few months ago, I had an hour spare in the middle of a very full day, and spent the time sitting in an exceedingly comfortable sofa, cup of tea in hand, and eyes gently glazed over as I disappeared from the world of doing for a while. On a pair of sofas near me, a middle-aged lady was enjoying a quiet moment to herself, reading a newspaper, and nursing her own steaming beverage, when in lumbered a wild-eyed, straggly-haired and somewhat crazed man who had obviously not felt the pleasure of a hot shower upon his fetid skin for a very long time. He looked at the lady and asked her, in a voice akin to the bark of an awkward dog, if he could sit down in the vacant seat opposite her. She kindly offered the man the seat and continued reading.
Or perhaps more accurately, did her best to continue to read while she was being accosted with muttering directed at her by her unexpected companion. Before long, he was ranting, talking about life and its privations, how tough everything was, and how God would come down from heaven and smite everyone who'd ever caused him harm. His words were a great deal more descriptive than my mild rendering, but this is not really the forum for such fruity language. His hapless victim eventually asked him if he minded being quiet, at which he looked surprised and then remorseful, and gifted us all with a few minutes of silence.
However, within a few minutes he began again, ranting and raving with even greater vehemence than before his little break, and his unwilling companion got up and took herself to a different seat.
I became the next target.
I was sitting with my cup of tea in hand, looking out the window, and just keeping my gaze forward, but suddenly, from a few metres across the room, found a constant stream of expletives and curses thrown at me. Here's a little sample:
"And they s**t on me, p**s on me, throw me down and tear out my hair, laughin' at me! Ah, but Satan will rise up and f***ing kill them all!! God will destroy them!!!" <cue indeterminate grunting noises of satisfaction at this imagined outcome>
A few other cafe denizens looked over at me to see what I would do, and I smiled at them resignedly. Not a great deal to be done, really, other than just endure, and see where this would go. Well, the conclusion to this snippet of life in a London cafe surprised me.
I was just preparing to move from my state of rest when I noticed that he had finally become silent. I looked over at him, and we locked eyes, and in that instant, all madness, all the craziness that had been there ever since I first saw him, drained out of his eyes, and the most extraordinarily warmth radiated from him. He looked right into my eyes, and said,
"Good luck, mate. I mean that."
And I found myself unexpectedly touched, and responded with a heart-felt thank you. As I stood up, he smiled gently at me, turned away, and his eyes began to glaze over again.
The second little anecdote is far shorter and far less dramatic, but nonetheless this was a thought-provoking encounter. It happened this morning, after my first student of the day.
I was sitting in the very same cafe, just drinking some hot water (tea had been drunk...), enjoying the sun shining down and the peace of nothing to be done for a while. It was nearly time to leave, and I had just put down my copy of the Srimad Bhagavatam I had been reading, when a rather corpulent fellow sat opposite me. He smiled at me happily and pointing to my book, said, "That looks heavy!"
Thus began a conversation about many things yoga and India. It turns out this unlikely old man knew a great deal about yoga, and had visited India many times, getting into a great deal of meditation along the way. He knew a lot of the yoga teachers I have studied with and just rattled off a list of well-known teachers of ashtanga vinyasa yoga. He knew all about Mysore. He divulged that he was off to India again for a few days, and when I asked him what he was going to be doing there, he answered that he will be watching the stars, and simply lying about doing very little.
The conversation moved on to the topic of fear, and of conspiracies, and the net of beaurocracy the modern world has become, and he shared a story of a time when he was literally dragged in front of a high-ranking Indian official and accused of espionage.
Eventually, it was time for me to go, and we parted, most likely never to speak again.
Yes, this was far from an earth-shattering occasion. However, it was a moment of connection with another human being, a human being I had no reason to speak to other than the fact that he happened to sit opposite me. I love these moments, these unexpected moments of connection. I've made friends in the past while just sitting with tea and a book, or just tea and myself, friends that I've kept up with to this day.
A cafe can be a wonderful venue for a calm exploration of life. Try it sometime. Just sit there, give yourself a little time, and be. Read a little if you like, but make sure you also take some time simply to sit. Observe people around you, people walking past, but most of all observe your own reactions. Are you judging the old man sitting opposite you? Do you feel uneasy just sitting and being? Do you feel guilty for actually doing nothing for a bit?
Trust me on this: do nothing, create a vacuum, and the vacuum will be filled. An open heart and mind will bring in all sorts of weird and wondrous experiences, and being open to these experiences can bring all kinds of magic into your life. Don't be afraid if your mind goes down all manner of bizarre paths. It's just a little spring clean of your mind, nothing more, nothing less.
Sitting in a cafe, doing nothing other than observing, is one of the best preparations for meditation that I know. It's non-threatening, there's no pressure, and no formal practice is involved in any way. You will start to get to know your mind, and you will allow life to land ideas, and all manner of experiences, into your lap.
And you get to enjoy a lovely cup of tea or coffee, and possibly even a freshly baked slice of cake in the process. What could be better?
A cafe is not merely a place to hastily gulp down a cup of coffee before running off again. I have spent many an hour sitting in a cafe, and the drink is only a very small part of the whole experience.
A good, comfortable cafe can be a place, as someone once said, for people who enjoy solitude in the company of others. Or it can be a venue for great conversation with good friends, with lovers, with would-be lovers, with family, with people you have known all your life, and people you have only just met that very moment. It can be a reward for a difficult task well done, as well as a place to relax in-between appointments. To the travelling yoga teacher, it often serves as an office, and somewhere to take a break after one class, before the next begins.
For me, more than anything else, it is a place where I can sit and watch the world go by, either alone or in the company of a loved one. And by the world, I certainly don't just mean the outside world, but also the internal world of the mind. And more often than might be expected, fascinating encounters can take place. Two instantly spring to mind, one rather dramatic, the other a great deal more innocuous, yet striking nonetheless.
A few months ago, I had an hour spare in the middle of a very full day, and spent the time sitting in an exceedingly comfortable sofa, cup of tea in hand, and eyes gently glazed over as I disappeared from the world of doing for a while. On a pair of sofas near me, a middle-aged lady was enjoying a quiet moment to herself, reading a newspaper, and nursing her own steaming beverage, when in lumbered a wild-eyed, straggly-haired and somewhat crazed man who had obviously not felt the pleasure of a hot shower upon his fetid skin for a very long time. He looked at the lady and asked her, in a voice akin to the bark of an awkward dog, if he could sit down in the vacant seat opposite her. She kindly offered the man the seat and continued reading.
Or perhaps more accurately, did her best to continue to read while she was being accosted with muttering directed at her by her unexpected companion. Before long, he was ranting, talking about life and its privations, how tough everything was, and how God would come down from heaven and smite everyone who'd ever caused him harm. His words were a great deal more descriptive than my mild rendering, but this is not really the forum for such fruity language. His hapless victim eventually asked him if he minded being quiet, at which he looked surprised and then remorseful, and gifted us all with a few minutes of silence.
However, within a few minutes he began again, ranting and raving with even greater vehemence than before his little break, and his unwilling companion got up and took herself to a different seat.
I became the next target.
I was sitting with my cup of tea in hand, looking out the window, and just keeping my gaze forward, but suddenly, from a few metres across the room, found a constant stream of expletives and curses thrown at me. Here's a little sample:
"And they s**t on me, p**s on me, throw me down and tear out my hair, laughin' at me! Ah, but Satan will rise up and f***ing kill them all!! God will destroy them!!!" <cue indeterminate grunting noises of satisfaction at this imagined outcome>
A few other cafe denizens looked over at me to see what I would do, and I smiled at them resignedly. Not a great deal to be done, really, other than just endure, and see where this would go. Well, the conclusion to this snippet of life in a London cafe surprised me.
I was just preparing to move from my state of rest when I noticed that he had finally become silent. I looked over at him, and we locked eyes, and in that instant, all madness, all the craziness that had been there ever since I first saw him, drained out of his eyes, and the most extraordinarily warmth radiated from him. He looked right into my eyes, and said,
"Good luck, mate. I mean that."
And I found myself unexpectedly touched, and responded with a heart-felt thank you. As I stood up, he smiled gently at me, turned away, and his eyes began to glaze over again.
The second little anecdote is far shorter and far less dramatic, but nonetheless this was a thought-provoking encounter. It happened this morning, after my first student of the day.
I was sitting in the very same cafe, just drinking some hot water (tea had been drunk...), enjoying the sun shining down and the peace of nothing to be done for a while. It was nearly time to leave, and I had just put down my copy of the Srimad Bhagavatam I had been reading, when a rather corpulent fellow sat opposite me. He smiled at me happily and pointing to my book, said, "That looks heavy!"
Thus began a conversation about many things yoga and India. It turns out this unlikely old man knew a great deal about yoga, and had visited India many times, getting into a great deal of meditation along the way. He knew a lot of the yoga teachers I have studied with and just rattled off a list of well-known teachers of ashtanga vinyasa yoga. He knew all about Mysore. He divulged that he was off to India again for a few days, and when I asked him what he was going to be doing there, he answered that he will be watching the stars, and simply lying about doing very little.
The conversation moved on to the topic of fear, and of conspiracies, and the net of beaurocracy the modern world has become, and he shared a story of a time when he was literally dragged in front of a high-ranking Indian official and accused of espionage.
Eventually, it was time for me to go, and we parted, most likely never to speak again.
Yes, this was far from an earth-shattering occasion. However, it was a moment of connection with another human being, a human being I had no reason to speak to other than the fact that he happened to sit opposite me. I love these moments, these unexpected moments of connection. I've made friends in the past while just sitting with tea and a book, or just tea and myself, friends that I've kept up with to this day.
A cafe can be a wonderful venue for a calm exploration of life. Try it sometime. Just sit there, give yourself a little time, and be. Read a little if you like, but make sure you also take some time simply to sit. Observe people around you, people walking past, but most of all observe your own reactions. Are you judging the old man sitting opposite you? Do you feel uneasy just sitting and being? Do you feel guilty for actually doing nothing for a bit?
Trust me on this: do nothing, create a vacuum, and the vacuum will be filled. An open heart and mind will bring in all sorts of weird and wondrous experiences, and being open to these experiences can bring all kinds of magic into your life. Don't be afraid if your mind goes down all manner of bizarre paths. It's just a little spring clean of your mind, nothing more, nothing less.
Sitting in a cafe, doing nothing other than observing, is one of the best preparations for meditation that I know. It's non-threatening, there's no pressure, and no formal practice is involved in any way. You will start to get to know your mind, and you will allow life to land ideas, and all manner of experiences, into your lap.
And you get to enjoy a lovely cup of tea or coffee, and possibly even a freshly baked slice of cake in the process. What could be better?
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