pink Yankees cap and big black beard
thanks for the matcha latte–
So why am I writing a haiku about a barista’s pink cap?
Maybe you’re thinking that this is pretty random.
Well, it was a profoundly simple moment. And it definitely is random. That’s precisely the beauty of it.
That’s because this mundane observation happened on a day when I needed a simple, wacky, ordinary moment.
It’s not everyday that a giant miracle finds me.
But it is indeed,
That is, if I dare to open myself to seeing them.
In other words, I can dare to find little miracles within the most random, mundane, and otherwise forgettable things.
Kindly bear with me here for this very ordinary story. But I saw the pink cap during a moment where I felt a bit down. Seeking solace and a sense of familiarity I went for a Starbucks, as I like to do when I need an average drink but sense of that strategically marketed sense of familiarity.
As I was ordering with my sweet, kind barista, a gentle giant dude with a wondrously thick black beard comes in to help her process my Starbucks reward. He was just a friendly, ordinary guy, and he was almost a toddler-size taller than the cool barista girl who took my order.
As I sat at my table with my notebook and Kindle, I got a chance to people watch (in a nice, not-Jason Bourne sort of way) my two baristas.
And wow, it was a bit refreshing for me to see the guy talk. He was neither especially socially skilled nor particularly engaging as a conversationalist. But for an empath like me, this gentle giant just emanated this refreshing energy of innocence, purity, or precious simplicity.
There was also an authenticity that beautifully met this precious simplicity.
I can’t quite describe it.
But whatever he did or did not endure, he emanated this “hospitable” energy that you always appreciate whenever being greeted by strangers (and certainly your baristas).
It wasn’t merely the spectacle of the pink cap, but it was the sort of collage of seemingly mismatching characteristics that created this awesome, beautiful human being.
At risk of stereotyping (I really don’t mean to), the images that popped in mind as I was watching this great gentleman made me think of Little John from Robin Hood, Drax the Destroyer from the Guardians of the Galaxy films, or Hawkodile from the UniKitty cartoon (I couldn’t help but watch it a few times).
So, they’re lovable, they admirably embrace the simplicity of whatever they’re focused on in the moment, and they are just, unashamedly, who they are.
I love that.
Now, I don’t know the story of this Gentle Giant and I don’t know what he might have survived or lived through at all.
But for those brief, ordinary moments that day, I’m grateful for what he reminded me of that day through the very energy and presence of just being himself.
I learned again about the importance of embracing the wonder, born from the tiniest miracles within the ordinary.