Morning came in with a brilliance he had never seen. Warm sunshine streamed in from the window, as did the soft, cool breeze — a beautiful mixture of fresh air and ocean, mixed to make the most refreshing ‘alarm clock’ he had experienced. Natural, gentle, just the way waking up should be.
He got out of bed, feeling refreshed and remarkably relaxed. The thought crossed his mind that he felt 'almost human again'. He felt a bit sore, yet, from his ‘episode’ of the previous day, but enough to get started on repairing his damages, however he would go about handling that. “Tomorrow will be the worst of this lactic acid pain. I must remember to drink a few liters of water today to wash out any of those loose crystals from yesterday’s ‘exercise’! Hmmm. I wonder how the water is here? It seemed good yesterday, but I wouldn’t put any stock in anything I think happened yesterday. California water is pretty high in mineral content. Great for creating gallstones, probably.”
After finding the shower in his room, he cleaned himself up, taking note of what bruises and a few of the cuts he had incurred the day before. Almost not surprisingly, most were almost healed. The rather large gash he had on his left arm looked now like he had only cut himself by scraping against a sharp nail. No scarring was shown in the area that had already healed.
Donning the clothing given to him the evening before, he left his room and started toward the sound of what was like people eating and talking. He walked into the dining room, where he had eaten dinner the night previously. In there, about a dozen people were sharing breakfast at long, wooden tables which reminded him of what it must have been like in the days of the Catholic monastery or in seminary life. There was an aroma of fresh coffee, fresh baked bread and the unmistakable smell of fresh fruit.
The young lady who had talked with him the night before invited him to get some breakfast at the counter and join her at a table with four other people. She still had the same sparkle in her eye. “I could really go for this young lady, if it felt right,” he thought to himself. “One step at a time! I need to get my self together first! Keep it slow and easy. Nice people, but how can I trust them? I have known them for less than a day, for gosh sakes!”
As he sat, the others, while eating, looked up at him, smiled peacefully, and continued eating their breakfast. Enough was being expressed by the others, as they were using nothing more than a smile. Words seemed almost not necessary.
“Would you like some coffee?” one of the men asked.
“That would be most wonderful. Thank you.” He pushed the cup that was at the place setting toward the gentleman who had the pot in his hand. The aroma was unlike any coffee he had ever smelled. It was richer in aroma, milder, much like when one opens a fresh bag of fresh coffee beans. He sipped the coffee. It needed no cream or sugar. “This is probably the best coffee I have ever had! Is this Columbian?”
No, the gentleman shook his head with a warm smile. “We grow it here.” He then refilled the others’ cups, the recipients all nodding in smiling appreciation.
“Yes, sir. This is the best coffee ever! Unlike most coffee, which has that tannic acid taste, this doesn’t seem to have it. Fantastic,” he said with great enthusiasm.
“It’s lettuce,” said the server, beaming almost with pride.
He choked, literally, on that comment, spraying coffee over the place setting in front of him. Others began to laugh gently, with a warm, loving tone.
“WHAT!???”
“Yes, lettuce. It is made in the same process as one makes coffee with coffee beans. We just use lettuce instead,” the server said quite as a matter of fact. He passed a cloth napkin to the still-coughing visitor, who took it, covering his mouth and nose, trying to regain his composure.
“What a way to start the day,” he thought to himself. “God, how embarrassing!” He felt the redness in his face of his embarrassment subside a bit. “Lettuce, huh?”
“So, what are your plans for your day,” asked another lady at the table, changing the subject in a most timely mode.
Removing the now slightly stained napkin from his face, he replied, “I was thinking of fixing the gazebo that I . . .”
“Please wait a moment,” the lady interrupted. “Please excuse me for stopping your train of thought, as I wanted to assist you a bit. You were about to bring up your guilt into the conversation. Please leave your guilt in the past. It is now gone. What happened yesterday, as you learned from Wendy last night, was yesterday. It is no longer.”
“I’m sorry, but I do not understand what you are getting at.”
“What were you about to say,” she asked with a “teacher’s look” of seriousness, but patience.
“What I was ABOUT to say that I was going to repair the gazebo that I destroyed yesterday,” sounding confused, and a bit perturbed at being interrupted.
With the most gentle and eloquent words and a gentle voice, she replied, “Why bring up the issue of the last half of your comment? Of what importance does it serve but to reinforce the guilt, and to imprison you to your past? By using your “arresting” phrases as you have, you tie your own creation of guilt to the event. It is past. It is gone. It is no more. Why would you want to tie yourself to that or any other past event?”
Like a flash of summer lightning, what he had read the night before about ‘What time is it? Now,’ made even more sense. “I’m sorry. Old habit,” he responded.
The lady smiled and said, “Lesson number two. Please think about the phrase, ‘I’m sorry.’ Maybe it would be more fitting for you if that phrase be used when you hurt somebody intentionally and wish to apologize. You will learn about that this afternoon when you continue your reading.”
With that comment, she went back to eating her whole-wheat toast and fruit if, indeed, that was what it really was.
“First, lettuce coffee. Who knows what else is not real in this world,” he thought to himself. “Thank you for your kindness,” he said to his new teacher.
She repeated the question. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to rebuild the gazebo.”
A round of gentle applause and light cheers came from the table, as the members beamed with joy, knowing they had seen progress. She looked at him, smiled and then continued to eat.