Sublimity of the Ordinary
There are times when I’m exhausted by life. Conflict and stress are consequences of being a sentient being. With few useful instincts we depend upon learning and emotional intelligence to “earn our living.”–by a paradox of cooperation and competition with others. This is what we mean by society. It’s more complicated than we know. We’ve come a long way from our grandparents. Most lived simpler ways, cultivating the soil and raising livestock to supply their needs.
From time to time, I need to retreat from engagement, from bringing my “A” game. I look forward to the respite that a Sunday morning breakfast at Taste of Paris brings. The restaurant is ordinary in appearance. Vintage advertising images from France decorate the walls. The pastry display case along the walkway into the dining room suggests the reason for this 
establishment. Tray upon tray of baked goods, sweet exotic deserts are displayed behind glass.
I take a table. A small vase of fresh cut flowers lend natures noble colors to my dining space. I am alone this morning. Though I miss my wife, the familiar smiles of the wait staff are a comfort, a reminder of the many Sunday mornings when we’ve both enjoyed being here.
Even the salt and pepper shakers, nondescript, utilitarian, have a simple beauty. There is the small 
ceramic container of butter servings–awaiting the arrival of French toast or Waffles.
I absorb all of these ordinary colors and shapes, awakened to the importance of the ordinariness of life when it is good, balanced,– the result of consummate care.
The French toast arrives. For this reason I, and all of the neighbors seated around me, have come. Kudos to Claude, and staff for the place they have created.
