On Saturday morning instead of going to aerobics class at the Y, I went to King’s Hawaiian Bakery for breakfast. I had been suffering some from shingles for about a week; staying home from work, because of the discomfort.
I couldn’t go to aerobics class or Aikido until my skin healed up on my left leg. Like my acupuncturist, Dr. Pan instructed: I had to let the virus pass through my body. Getting shingles is also the symptom of having the “older” immune system. Oh, yet another blessing of “older”. Anyway, that’s another story for another time or not. This too did pass. I had to endure and suck it up for a couple weeks.
At King’s Hawaiian, I could order the kind of breakfast that Mom used to make back when I was growing up in Pearl City. With my shingles and all, I wasn’t in the mood to cook breakfast for myself. Besides, I haven’t yet mastered over-easy eggs. Nor do I possess the proper skillet to do so. I ordered two eggs over-easy, spam, and extra streamed rice. King’s usually gives one scoop of rice. I don’t eat toast. Not entirely a gluten thing.
Sitting down to eat my “ono” breakfast, I discovered that I had mistakenly left my cell phone at home. I thought, “Oh, no. What I am I going to do when I eat?” Usually, when I’m at a restaurant by myself, my cell phone is my crutch to avoid being alone. My cell phone use is very parochial. I look at IMDB dot com. I check Facebook. I check e-mail. I even check who looks at my profile on Match dot com.
Although when I’m out sharing meals with others, I don’t use my phone. I’m actually someone who says, “I’m busy right now. Can I call you back later?”
I fear being truly alone. Really, I sometimes fear that I look like a loser being all by myself in public, at a restaurant or movie theater.
So instead, I chose to enjoy being alone eating my breakfast. I got present with the other people having breakfast. King’s was vibrant with life. Life happened. Families and friends talking and laughing while eating French Toast and Portuguese sausage. The servers and cooks rushed to get the orders out.
Even sitting there alone by myself, life occurred. So being by myself just meant that I was not with someone. Now that was cool. I was unplugged, yet not really alone. I was present to life occurring. Perhaps, we’re never really alone when we’re actually paying attention. We’re really not all alone when we’re not all about us.
So I enjoyed my rice, spam and eggs. Breakfast was almost as good as Mom used to make. Yeah, it tasted good, though probably not the best for me. Well, as for the spam, I grew up in Hawaii. That’s what is.
I got that I use all kinds of crutches to avoid being dominated by alone. Yet, being present in alone, I got that I’m not really. Life still happens. Life goes on whether you’re plugged or unplugged. Sometimes being unplugged, like meditation, makes you appreciate the life that goes on.
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