In the center of loud, bustling Madrid, I meditate on the meaning of oasis. I wonder how to find a peaceful spring in the middle of all this noise. I wonder if I’m capable enough to focus, to direct my antennae to receive whatever signal arises in the midst of so much change and static electricity.
There is a gut instinct to retreat.
I bought an expresso pot and discovered that with an induction stove top, the pot is heated by a magnetic field. There was curiosity at first about the materials I’d been given. Then, impatience when the pot didn’t brew correctly. My body yearned for a simple cup of coffee. My heart yearned for fire, pure and simple flames, the kind you can see. But nothing is simple now. Everything is new. I pause for a moment and feel silly. Then, I’m moved into a state of gratitude. I’m grateful for having any material at all and for having these kind of problems. Extravagant problems.
I’m in the center of the loud, bustling city of Madrid and I feel like an orphan child and the universe is providing me with a safe haven. I’m a child but when I look in the mirror I’m old. And I’m aware. I’m aware that I’m blessed and responsible. I know there are adult children orphans like me who are struggling, tired, thirsty. I don’t feel guilty. I feel curious about what I am here to do.
I move forward tinkering with my new coffee pot and magnetic field stove wondering about what it means to create an Oasis, a fertile space, a water spring in the middle of nowhere. Anywhere.
I lower the heat and wait. Gradually, the expresso streams out without a hitch. It’s delicious.