The cafe.

I sit at this table, in a favorite cafe of mine, drinking coffee grown in another part of the world by farmers I will probably never know, though I already know them by the fruit of their labor. They are in the coffee they grow. The people who roasted the beans are in it, too, and I therefor know them for it.

With my coffee, I ate a muffin. A ginger-carrot muffin baked in-house by the people who served it to me. They are in the muffin which is in me, so they too are in me.

I am, in this place, a part of the couple sitting in front of me, the three old men sitting next to them, the other solitary people in the room.

Together we are here, manifestations of our collective essence. I live for them and they live for me. This brings wonder and joy into each moment spent here.

When I leave, I'll bring them with me. They have changed me uniquely. When I am home, they are there with me, and I with them.

There can be no greater joy than what is found in that. One day we will return to the suchness of everything that is. There can be no greater peace than what is found in that. May I learn to see this in every action, every thought, every moment, for it is absolute.