Some people appear to walk around with a chip on their shoulder. Clearly enough, a little accidental bump by clumsy old you and right away, you might be unlucky enough to get a spontaneous eye-of-Sauron kind of glare. Sometimes, it won’t even matter if you’ve followed it up with a curt “x’cuse me” or a more sincere apology. The meaner ones meanwhile, might even go at it with an early warning smirk, even as your approach is still a few inches away: get the hell out of my way! (with Jedi hand gesture to boot)
It’s the dark language of the street some may not be familiar with. This was what my much older lady companion cautioned me, as we once made our way through a heavy market crowd. You have to understand this, Padawan: not everyone is chirpy-happy always. Every one wrestle with daily problems which they face all their own and you’ve to fully accept, some people are boiling just below the surface and ready to erupt at any time. This is why, I totally get it whenever I’m reminded of what my late mom once told me: Be kind.
On perhaps, a much lighter side, that proverbial chip on the shoulder might as well be the still-to-be had mug of steaming coffee in the morning. There’s a saying that goes, “I prefer coffee because murder is illegal” and truly, this could be a close enough reference. A bit too much yes, but one should get the picture.
Many a-time I have seen early joggers seated at Mcdo looking into empty space as they end their run with coffee. It’s the same with some vendors who sit quietly at their roadside stalls, pausing awhile to sip into their tin white mugs, sometimes with pandesal in the other hand, before forging head on to the long day ahead. The calm before the storm, perhaps. If one can imagine monks at the temple, in solemn meditation before daybreak, you too can relate with the coffee drinker; in tune with the grey steam that warms their hands, as they become one with their brew.
Unfortunately for you, devotees of a peaceful early morning, there will be those gifted with a thousand roosters in their soul and with that, I imagine them to be shape-shifters all. Some take in the form of yelping dogs, others boisterous kids off to school, while a few, morph into shrill banshees barking at youngsters to fly from their beds to be up for school. All these not entirely their own choosing, mind you. It is just the way of the world, like two forces always at odds with each other.
So, as though to reach into that old phrase and poser: quo vadis, where does one go from here? The answer is Zilch. Nada. The best advice would be to merely stay put and endure it all because like life and its other aspects, mornings never last. The blessed day is still up ahead.
