inside out.

it’s actually kinda ludicrous attempting to describe an inner phenomena, a transcendent happening. and yet, here i go. anyway, not so many folk actually read this blog anymore and, who knows (?), maybe this’ll be an inspiration to one person, one day.

there’s absolutely no difference between me and any other aging man, especially at night. sleeping is typically hit and miss. i’m up and down a lot, trundling off to the ‘salle de bain’ with various degrees of success. it’s in the early morning when things become... unusual, extra-normal and entirely profound. a kind of grace descends upon me, or opens up from within me. a kind of bliss, for lack of any other better word, consumes me, subsumes me and carries me away, sometimes for hours at a time. it’s not only in the early morning, by the way, but it’s always in the early morning.

for the most part i’m conscious, aware of the happening and incredibly grateful for it. this has been variously decribed as samadhi, kundalini, super consciousness, absolute bliss consciousness, even god consciousness, whatever the heck that means. to be perfectly honest, i don’t know what to call it other than a blessing. 

because that’s the way my life has evolved. for one reason or another i’ve led a tremendously solitary life. which is not to say that i’m in any way displeased or unhappy. it sounds terrible but it’s not. it simply is what it is. at this point i would most certainly be considered one of those isolated old folks you hear about on the radio or read about on-line. i’m alone most of the time... and then there’s that!          

“In Samadhi, that very deep state of meditation, you are given energy and long-lasting bliss. It carries you higher and higher until your very presence radiates love.” Sri Sri Ravi Shankar.

the sandwich.

there was a portion of the road leading in to the ‘figaro coffee house’ that was kind of wondrous. it reminded me of home actually: a shimmering, glimmering cluster of trees trembling on their small island. it was an island surrounded by mostly pavement but shimmering, glimmering nonetheless. it was a white island with thousands of icy prisms throwing kaleidoscopic patterns onto the dash-board of my old truck as i turned in.  

the cafe was busy dealing with beautiful lunch-time people all dealing back in their various ways: chatting loudly, ingesting quietly, laughing, texting, scrolling. the clear, layered display cabinets were filled bountifully with a cornucopia of angina-inducing super sweet and ridiculously rich pastries, thick and filling paninis and sandwiches. only i couldn’t see any vegetarian ones there except for the one actually reflected in the glass, looking, looking. i asked for a cappuccino and enquired hopefully if i might possibly and even perhaps preposterously get a veggie sandwich, on a croissant.  

the young dark-eyed girl was no doubt momentarily taken aback. but she was in no way defeated. she was simply understanding just how not mundane life always is or can be, no matter how mundane ones job may seem at first blush. she smiled encouragingly at me, at herself, then swiftly scooted into the inner sanctum leaving me with my thoughts. however, she scooted back just as swiftly, interrupting not much to ask a few details before again scooting off. 

once i paid with thanks, collected my coffee and draped my coat over a chair, i was confronted by a very short lady wearing an apron, white cap, warm smile. this was unbelievable, i thought. this was extra-normal, i thought. this was not the stuff of legends, i thought. that would’ve been going too far. but it certainly was unusual. the short sandwich-maker had come to discuss my tall order further. she wanted to get it right. i just wanted to get it at all. she could not know, of course, that i’m not the most discerning croissant-sandwich aficionado ever since the earl of sandwich unwrapped the very first proto-type. 

eventually my coffee was gone and some of the people who‘d been chatting, ingesting, laughing, texting and scrolling around me had gone as well. eventually i began to wonder as one does when the wait-time seems inordinately long. but right then the short, aproned lady re-appeared, towered above me, presented my lunch with a napkin and a flourish. i could not believe it. my eyes could not take it all in and i momentarily wondered if my mouth could either.

i continued to undress it with my eyes for a few moments, layer upon layer. firstly, the croissant clearly had been on steroids or some growth-enducing hormones. it was bunion-esque, schwarzenegger-esque. in-between its impressive upper and lower selves there was avocado in slices laid out neatly side-by-side from end to end. there were brilliant red tomato and green/white cucumber slices, a layer of lettuce, sprouts, cheese, mayonnaise. the croissant was just crispy enough, although eating the whole sandwich was probably not pretty, certainly not elegant. it was huge and admittedly i’m somewhat dentally challenged, but it was soooo good.  

four napkins and twenty minutes or so later i was done. i sat back briefly to appreciate the moment and to reconsider what constitutes being the stuff of legends. i put on my coat, deposited the dishes in a bin before heading for the door. i spotted the dark-eyed girl scooting off to the side, away from the counter. she was busy, too focussed to notice the aging croissant-loving vegetarian standing there hopefully. eventually i lightly tapped on the glass window, or maybe i tapped on the plexiglass window. whatever may have been the case, i tapped and she was surprised, maybe even a little shocked. she looked up at me quizzically, questioningly. 

for a split-second i remained silent as her eyes widened slightly. finally i blurted out: “THAT WAS FUCKING AMAZING!” we both laughed and i thanked her, beseached her to relay the message. i made my way out then to where thousands of icy prisms were still throwing kaleidoscopic patterns into the world. 

sparkling new youtube channel.

to check out my new videos, go to youtube.com and simply type in ‘nathan vanek.’