Taking Delight in the Small Things

Independence has always scared me. Not just the big 'important' things like living away from home or taking responsibility for your life. But the seemingly less significant things that are a part of most people's every day living. I'm the type of person that thinks it's strange when people go to see films on their own. I get fidgety when waiting to meet somebody at a coffee shop (I'm also the type of person that pretends to be using their mobile phone whilst waiting for others-anything to detract from the blindingly obvious fact that I'm alone) and the idea of eating alone in a restaurant seems both terrifying and slightly sad. Whenever I see people that do this, my immediate reaction is generally that they've been stood up. I can't help it. I know that your eating habits shouldn't bear much reflection on the type of person you are, but my mind seems to think otherwise. I've never been able to comprehend why anybody would want to sit on their own and simply be.

All this week I'm helping out at my church's holiday club that's held for children in the morning. Unfortunately I arrived at the church half an hour earlier than I needed to as this was the only way I could have got a lift there. Now the thought of wandering around this pleasant but relatively dull village for half an hour (on my own) didn't exactly fill me with joy. So I decided to search out food.

And so this morning at a quarter to 9 whilst stood ordering the most important meal of the day in a bakery, I did something that was quite remarkable.

I was asked if I was going to take my food out or if I was eating in, and with barely a moments thought I told her I'd be eating in.

I ate breakfast, alone, in the local bakery.

Not only did I eat breakfast alone, I thoroughly enjoyed eating breakfast in solitude.

Not only that but I ordered a cup of tea and the woman who worked there brought out this really cute blue teapot. Not only was it lovely and English looking, it complemented my skirt in way that was so beautiful that I began to think this day was destined to be.

And when other customers passed by me, I didn't automatically reach for my phone in sheer desperation of not wanting to look like a loser.

So I sat, I ate my breakfast, I drank my tea and I read Atonement.

I didn't feel the need to rush and I didn't have to think of anything else but the pictures that Ian McEwan was painting with his words. And it might not sound like much, after all I was doing something that I'm sure millions of people do every single day, but it felt pretty special to me.

I'll be there again tomorrow and then again on Thursday.

I can't wait.

It is through these simple acts, I am slowly becoming the person I want to be...