I see myself as a spiritual person … but sometimes I blow it.

As I walked into a coffee shop yesterday, I recognized the barista. Last time I was in, he played this awful rap song. The driving beat intruded on my sipping. I asked him to change the music and he did.

More rap as I approached the counter this time. Perhaps an evolved person would let the music wash over him like a spring rain. That wasn’t me. I started ranting about creating a calm atmosphere. (Hmm … that’s quite the contrast.)

He said he was willing to put on new music but I wasn’t listening. I wanted to make him wrong. I wanted to amp up my rant.

Oh, Bruce, this isn’t you. Where did you go?

Except at that moment it was me. I wasn’t such a nice guy after all.

I was educated that the rap song was the only one on a playlist that the coffee place used. My timing on the two visits had been horrible.

Not willing to learn, or even listen, I grabbed my still-to-be-filled reusable mug and stormed out of the shop.

I had walked maybe thirty metres down the street when Spirit hit me between the eyes:

“Stop.”

I did.

“Think.”

I did.

“Go back and apologize.”

(Sigh) I did.

***

“I’m sorry. I apologize. I was scared that it would be rap song after rap song. I wouldn’t listen to you when you said that there was only one of them on the playlist.”

“I was wrong.”

***

Thank God for the truth

And so I am free