just enough light

–An excessively detailed account of a fleeting moment of near insignificance that highlights the enormous importance of place and consistency.

A few years ago, when my early morning attendance at Starbucks was more regular, when the Baristas knew me by my first name and my order of dark roast, and the other early morning customers knew one another by face, frequently acknowledging attendance with a smile, head nod, and occasionally, “Morning,” someone who clearly did not know or appreciate the importance of history and place sat at MY table before I arrived.

There weren’t that many people who showed up early, long before the drive-through got backed up and folks began walking in for the drinks they ordered by phone on their way to the office. There were just a few of us, mostly retired people, who came to sit and talk, or in my case, read and write a bit and chat if necessary. It was uncommon for anyone but the few of us to come in and sit down at that hour, and none of the regulars would have sat at my table. So I was surprised to see someone sitting there.

That morning, however, when I saw someone sitting at MY table, I had to some quick mental restructuring. It wasn’t a big deal, but bumps of any size in a morning routine require some attention, because my brain has not quite gotten up the speed to make quick zig-zags. I could not ask the person to go sit at another table, because no one has put a nameplate on that table that says, “Reserved for John D. Powell, Ph.D.” Not yet at least. So I surveyed my options, which were many. Few other tables had occupants, and all the tables and chairs are identical and equally uncomfortable. It’s Starbucks. The tables, however, are not identical, because they are in different locations, which, of course, is of great importance.

From my table in the corner I can view the whole establishment, which most of the time I ignore. But if someone enters or something happens that might require my attention, it takes only a glance before I go back to ignoring. And besides, this table fulfills the mandate, “A gunfighter never sits with his back to the door.”

So, with just a moment of mental adjustment, I headed for the table nearest MY table. As I passed one of the regulars, he looked up with mild concern and said almost in a whisper, “Someone’s sitting at your table.”

I smiled, “Yeah, it’s OK.”

Somehow, with his simple acknowledgment, my morning was back on track. Someone else knew. At least one other person knew the importance of consistency and place, of starting a day with as many things in place and on schedule as possible, because it’s only a matter of a brief time that things will start falling apart as the day moves along. By that time, however, you’re more ready for adjusting, compensating, filling in the gaps. In the early morning, when the sun is not quite visible, it helps to have as many things in place as you can.

It wasn’t my table, but it was one of those little things, a quiet familiar space that helps to start the day.