It was our 11th anniversary.
We had hardly any money, but we wanted to do something special. For our 10th we went to NYC and it was such fun. But this time around, we were going to have to stay local, no pizazz, just be together. And that was okay.
We ended up going out for breakfast, just the two of us, at a sweet little restaurant that serves the best homemade quiche (my favorite). We sat down in our own little world and sipped coffee and talked and took our time. Eventually, Jesse got up to get food from the buffet while I stayed back to enjoy my pretty little slice of heaven.
I smiled. Time to savor. Time to pretend. Time to imagine I’m in a cafe in Paris with my love.
I took a bite of my quiche and ate it slowly, relishing in each cheesy bit. Jesse sat across from me, his plate filled with eggs and bacon and toast and pancakes and all sorts of food from the delicious selection.
He started to talk and I asked him for a moment of silence. I wanted to really taste and savor my food. I closed my eyes. I am so dramatic. He loves me anyway. There is something about eating without talking that helps me fully engage with my food. This sounds weird, I know, but I don’t care. My quiche was wonderful and I wanted to enjoy it fully, because I was pretending I was in a Parisian café, and I was eating a French quiche made fresh that morning.
We carried on our conversation, and had a delightful time. But every now and then, I would close my eyes…
I heard a chair move, and I opened my eyes.
Jesse was heading back to the buffet; I had stopped counting how many times he’d filled his plate.
Finally I said to my loving husband, “Listen, you have to tell me when you’re making your last stop at the buffet because that’s when I’m going to eat the crust.”
The crust, the best part.
As I finished up, I realized that right there, in that sweet little place with my best friend, I was wherever I wanted to be. I just had to close my eyes and imagine it. It didn’t matter if I was in a café in Paris or in Pennsylvania Dutch country thousands of miles away. The quiche was just as enjoyable because I made it so. And I was in good company, and the place faded away and the moment was there and it was just right.
Here’s what I know now: it doesn’t matter where you are; you can be anywhere you want to be in your mind. You can imagine it. You can enjoy it. This is not an escape, it’s choosing to be fully engaged with your life right where you are, with just a spritz of imagination.
I didn’t need Paris or the cafe; I needed the moment, the experience. And I had it, right where I was.
What are you longing for? Wake up your imagination and see how you can bring that longing, that dream, into your reality today in a small, but meaningful or fun way.
We can’t always choose our circumstances, but we can choose our perspective.
Much love, SM