At the other side of the coffee shop there are two girls in conversation. One is talking intensely, the other listening intensely. This isn't the normal coffee shop conversation. Tears may even be involved. My cynicism kicks in. I wonder as I look at the girl listening, does she want to listen? She's one of those girls who has conversations like this all the time. At what point is it too much? Does she genuinely care to hear this girl's story or is this just out of routine? What is she thinking about? Is she thinking about what she's hearing or about when she'll be able to go to lunch once this meeting is over? Only she knows. It can be so easy for someone to put on a fake listening face, insert a couple "yeahs" in the conversation to make it look like you're listening. I know because I do this all the time.
As for the girl talking, I can't imagine going that deep with someone I hardly know. I wouldn't know what to say. My distrust for people kicks in. How could I know she wouldn't talk to others about my deepest issues? How could I know she wouldn't judge my decisions or my past mistakes? Maybe that's just the introvert in me, but I don't understand why someone needs everyone to know their problems, or why someone is comfortable with telling everyone their problems. My spirit gets unsettled at the thought. Not many people really know me.
Sitting at the table next to them is a couple. They sit across from each other, talking in hushed tones, or so it seems from my distance. Not much to analyze about what they're thinking. They're probably just happy to have this time to be together.
In the middle of the shop is a group of college students trying to decide whether or not to go to lunch now or wait a little bit. I look at each of their styles and wonder why they chose to wear that today. One guy is wearing skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black and grey plaid scarf. For some reason, someone thought he looked like a hippy. I don't think they know what hippies look like. The hippies I know do not wear plaid scarves or skinny jeans. I wonder if that person meant that as a compliment or an insult. To me, I like looking like a hippy, it fits my personality and how I want people to see me. In this environment, hippies are looked on with disdain. However, this trend of thinking may be changing. Who am I to judge?
The girls are all wearing a similar style of a skirt (or dress pants), a solid shirt, a scarf, and a sweater. Not much variety to analyze there. I know I don't fit their style. I don't wear bright colors and a lot of sparkly hats, scarves, jewelry, etc. I'm perfectly content with my glasses, grey shirt, and olive green cardigan. I may not cake makeup on my face, but at least I'm content with how my face looks naturally. I have nothing against makeup, I've just realized recently that I will never feel comfortable with makeup on. I'm tired of trying to fit in to the world. Yes, I have blemishes, I have freckles and scars all over my face, but I'm not trying to change my face. I am fearfully and wonderfully made, just the way I am.
As for the people in the corner using the computers, they're just being model students, maybe. Getting things done that I'm putting off by writing this blog. Part of me feels guilty for that, but the other part of me thinks that I just need to sit a think for a while. To you, I made be weird that I like to sit and analyze people in a coffee shop, that relaxes me.
As new people come in, new thoughts race through your mind. Different personalities. Different faces. Different ambitions. Different goals. Different thoughts. I honestly doubt that any two people in this room are thinking the exact same thing.
I hope I didn't ramble on too much. I hadn't blogged in a while, but here is how I slow my mind down. This process of cynicism, reasoning through the cynicism, seeing things in a new light rather than just the normal hustle of a coffee shop. And now, I am relaxed.
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