“I love java, sweet & hot, I love the coffee from the coffee pot!
java and me, a cuppa, cuppa, cuppa cup of coffee!” Yeah!
That refrain, from an old mid 20th century song, echoes in my
mind as I awaken shortly after 5 a.m. Actually, I stumble across
the room to the bathroom to empty my bladder, and as I sit on the
‘throne’, that’s what’s front and center as I try to decide whether
to fully awaken and make that pot of coffee, or can I really go
back to bed and fall into another round of sleep.
That is the privilege of retirement. Years of having to be up and
ready to be productive have been worth the effort, and it’s now
The question has been asked, “What happens in the bathroom?”
I thought briefly of leading you down the garden path of the ‘trips’
I find myself taking as I pause at any time of the 24 hours to use
the bathroom. My plan was to relay to you a tale of trips made
as if they had actually taken place, and then end by revealing
it’s only me, in my mind, in the bathroom, facing my calendars on
the wall, with pictures of far-away places. I love that. It would be
fun, but on second thought, not a good idea. Cancel that.
My bathroom is quite utilitarian. No color coordination, no shelves
of delightful fresh towels, no concession to making the bathroom
anything other than what it was designed for.
Yet, in that ordinary place, I have found myself lost in contemplation
of the tile floor, it’s mottled surface the source of much delight as
I glimpse faces all over portions of the floor. There is one Dickens
character over by the bathtub whom I ignore because he is so grumpy.
Maybe you have your own place of “seeing things”, like in the clouds,
or in a pool of water, or the half-empty tea cup.
Where do we go, in those moments?
I believe we have each created a library of impressions, odd notes
like sketches idly kept in piles, too precious to throw away. They
spring up from the sub-conscious (unconscious?) because of the way
the light falls on anything near, outdoors or indoors, and away we go,
on our own trip of imagination.
Time pauses, doesn’t it, in those moments. Yesterday my friend Dianna
spoke of a whole day in which time took on a slower dimension, one
of contemplation and a greater sense of clarity. I noticed that, one by
one, others responded to her noticing this, with perceptions of their own.
I can see that I have wandered away from the core of that question,
“What happens in the bathroom?”. I will have to come back to that
with love …