Tattoos, Sleep and Conversations at Brunch

A man told me he had insomnia.

“Are you energetically sensitive?”

I asked.

The man, whose arms were covered in tattoos, said, “Probably.”

I shared my own struggles with sleep over - how I was a childhood insomniac, then got over it and slept fine for years, followed by a really tough few years. I didn’t mention getting twitch and opening my eyes and being to see certain energetic patterns that I wish I didn’t. I just said, “The energy has been so intense these past few years.” And it’s true. As I understand it, a delayering is happening and a lot is coming to the surface. On top of that, it doesn’t take a spiritually oriented person to see that there are battles over our consciousness going on out there. But I didn’t go into that - after all, the man had already endured my usual typical requests when someone asks me repeatedly what they can do for me or what they can help me with when they are my “server,” which is a word I don’t care for any better than waiter or waitress. A lady in waiting. A servant. A server. The help. The helpmate. It’s all outdated patriarchal class nonsense. Not that I want the people who facilitate a beautiful dining experience for me to be called meal technicians or anything like that. Why not just say, “I’m so and so and I”ll be facilitating your dining experience today.”

So it was Sunday and my husband and I went to Brunch together after a brief trip to the lake, which was beautifully dotted with loons.

The man I’ve been discussing came over to our table and asked if we needed more time or menus or anything at all. I told him we were all good. He reiterated wanting to help in any way he could, besides taking our order, so when I did go ahead and place it, I was specific. See, sometimes my husband places the order for me; sometimes I place his, and sometimes we switch it up. I placed the whole thing today which included veggie scrambler, a curry and a couple of lattes - and mutual understanding between nation states, tribes, peoples and individuals, along with free speech that is both kind and uncensored. Our helpful fellow with the tattoos told me, “Coming right up.” I told him how much I appreciated that - for me, food is great, but it’s getting spread those intentions that light me up for real!

At one point I offered him a compliment: “I like your tattoos. Especially the rose. He glowed as he said, “Thank you very much.” After the food arrived, he came back to see how everything was tasting. That’s another funny thing that I think is an odd fad in dining: Asking how the first bites are tasting. I mean on the one hand creates mindfulness, but on the other hand, because it leads to mindfulness, it is weird to think so mindfully about the process of tasting and how my mouth is moving as I chew and then be asked about it by someone I don’t know! It’s fine. Really no big deal. Just amusing, that is all. So he asked about the tasting and then if there was anything else he could help with, so I asked him how he was doing on…what did I say? A mouthful fell out (good thing I didn’t have that food I was tasting in my mouth still at that moment,) about a dynamic in the world I hoped he would unerstand about or understand about it once I articulated it. His sincere and sweet response was, “To be honest with you, I’m just trying to get a good night sleep.”

.I asked him if he took supplements and he said he had in the past but they didn’t work. He said he feels like his sleep is lunar - impacted by the cycles of the moon. That’s when I asked if he was energetically sensitive and he said, “probably.” I mentioned that meditation, if it’s a high quality one can be even better than sleep. He said, “Thanks, I’ll have to remember that. I kind of forgot about meditating.”

Over brunch, my husband and I made up a story about Frog and Toad. Later, he brought me a brownie. Out of the blue, he suddenly said, “Is it time to get you a brownie?” And it was. The Gluten Free place we like best has a plain brownie called the “Killer Brownie.” I lobbied for years to have the name changed. Apparently now it still says that label in front of the display cabinet but on the menu it just says, “brownie.” Ironically, the other kind of brownie is called the “Turtle Brownie.”

If those at the top stopped killing

And those trying not to be at the bottom stopped

Schilling

The only thing Chilling

Would be the

Frosting

It is exhausting to be who we are not meant to be

In truth

We are a sovereign interdependent inter-universal family

And if you were here, I’d give you a bit of my brownie

Rural or city or townie

Just come with a heart that has reverence for all life

Come with goodwill for all

And let’s live in peace

Sharing brownies