This morning, in using up the last of my Starbuck's gift card stash (the only way I usually visit this mecca of coffee delight), I stood in line behind a heavyset man waiting as the clerk stuffed a blueberry muffin into a bag to accompany his coffee order.
"They're taxing us to death," he said. "We can barely exist as it is."
He continued on an Obama rant as he informed the clerk about an upcoming speech by our President and disparaged his economic and health care policies.
As he stepped aside, I thought about the irony of his comments. Does "bare existence" include your morning Starbuck's and pastry? Is your visit just this once for a treat to distract you from your "bare existence," or are you a Starbuck's junkie? Maybe you should visit Operation Hope, our local homeless shelter for families, to learn something about "bare existence". And, oh yeah, aren't you wearing a badge that identifies you as an employee at this grocery store? That must mean you have a job.
Before I wallowed too long in this self-righteous mental huff, I realized that he made me abundantly aware of something I am trying to do of late. I am making a conscious effort to pay attention to a line I read in a book: "I have everything I need for joy." I'm focusing on finding and acknowledging that which brings me joy, like my beautiful, sweet cat curled up here by my laptop. She is luxuriating in the machine's warmth and the morning sun coming through the kitchen door.
This precious moment brings me out of my judgment. It makes me aware of having everything I need for right now. I can thank the "barely existing" Starbuck's customer for assisting me in my spiritual quest. I can dismiss my worries about my own financial insecurity and do the footwork I need to do, leaving the outcomes to faith.
