11/26/2005 04:44:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|Monday - My chance to handle quite the rush on the barista machine. It felt GREAT! Wednesday - I opened. The opener has to, amongst many other things, turn the music on. We were brewing Caffé Venice that morning, which made it all feel very European. So I turned on 'French Chansonnier' to start the music. Seeing the light begin to appear in the sky, through the windows, was magic - a real winter-blue, morning sky. For a little while, it was perfect. (My colleague who started a bit later changed the music - she couldn't handle accordians so early in the morning, which is fair enough.) Thursday - Moment of truth. It is plain foolishness for me to expect that I will be the perfect barista after six weeks. There are, for example, Italian men who have been making espresso and cappuccino every day for 40 years. They know exactly how to drop espresso shots, and do it perfectly every time. They know exactly how much milk they need to steam/foam for each drink. M, who also works mornings with me, has done this for three years. There is no way I will be as good as her after three weeks, or three months. Nor should I expect to be. There is something very North American and/or 21st century about expecting that a few days should be sufficient to master something. I am an apprentice. This is not an excuse to sit back and not try things, or think, "I'm only doing this for a few more weeks, so it doesn't matter if I just coast along." But I still have lots to learn, and that is fine. And that means that if there are ten drinks lined up by the barista machine, it is time for me to step out and let someone else take over, and go do things that I can do just as quickly and well as anyone. I am also an apprentice human being. I am not yet who I am going to be; I have not arrived, and it is foolishness to expect that it should be otherwise. I am learning and living one day at a time. (It also snowed a lot on Thursday - the first storm of this winter, in fact. I really enjoyed it, made possible by the fact that I did not have to drive anywhere. And my sister and I had sushi for supper in the evening, which was really yummy.)|W|P|113302085803096305|W|P|This week in review|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/20/2005 04:41:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|One day at a time. I have lost sight of that these last few days, and things have really spiralled in my head and heart. One day at a time. "Blott en dag, ett ögonblick i sänder..."|W|P|113301976912802865|W|P|One|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/19/2005 10:01:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|There were a few flurries on Thursday - enough so that you could see that it was ever so slightly flurrying, but none of it stayed. Yesterday it snowed a bit more. In the morning, looking out the window at work, I saw the flurries as the light was starting to appear. Yesterday afternoon, after the crazy morning, it felt very peaceful to tidy up, clean out syrup jars, and see the snow coming down. Yesterday evening, leaving my parents' house after feeding the cats, it was wonderful to see the snow covering the lawns and gardens. There is something about snow, especially the first couple of snows of the winter, and any snow at Christmas. It lifts my heart and makes me long for a place I have never yet been, yet know in the depths of me. Certain pictures, places, and descriptions of Britain make me feel the same way. It's about transcendence: moments when the surface ripples and you know that there is something much bigger going on.|W|P|113243451025897389|W|P|A dusting of snow|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/19/2005 07:52:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|Yesterday I worked from 6 am - 3 pm. It was an INSANE day. By the end of the day I had made $15.90 in tips, or nearly the equivalent of two hours' work. Bear in mind that this was just my share of the tip jar - some of my colleagues went home with just as much money. For anyone who has had a job like this, you know that that much in tips = a LOT of people. It was so crazy that I didn't get my break until 7 1/4 hours into my shift. Despite the busyness, it was a much better day than Wednesday and Thursday had been. Wednesday was okay until the afternoon. We were two new ones on the line - the other woman even newer than myself. We had quite the rush, and she ended up making a lot of drinks on the barista machine. I have never had the chance to handle a rush like that - someone more experienced always takes over for me when things get busy. But since there was only me, she just persevered through it, and afterwards felt exhilirated - that is a real challenge, and she rose to the occasion. That's when the nasty voice in my head said, but why does SHE get the chance when I have never had the chance, and I have been working here longer than she has? Thursday was all about realizing that (a) my job wasn't making me feel very good about myself, and (b) actually, that's not what a job is for - or at least not primarily what a job is for. And when I don't feel good about myself, I feel better when others also don't feel so good about themselves. It was purely by grace that I did not say and do really hurtful things to my husband those days. My lifeline, again and again, was: "My flesh and my heart may fail [yes, and yes] but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Just that, over and over again.|W|P|113242699086736277|W|P|The tip jar|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/12/2005 03:54:00 a.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|Today is Remembrance Day. The best that I could do was to turn the music off in the café for a few minutes at 11.00. No-one particularly noticed, but that was my way to deliberately remember. I have been told that in Hebrew the verb for 'knowing' is the same as for 'remembering'. There is no knowledge without memory. Last Saturday morning there was a really bad fight that happened right outside our window. Two vehicles; an older man in one, a couple in their 20s in the other. By the time I heard what was going on they were yelling and swearing furiously at one another, and it was obvious that the temperature was rising. Then the two men came to blows. Bystanders separated them but four police cars arrived before it was all sorted out. The couple were each wearing a poppy, a Remembrance Day poppy. I am sure that they would say, "I would never start a war." What happened there, though, was war on a small scale - anger, turning to hatred, turning to violence. Solzhenitsyn once said (and this is a terrible paraphrase): everyone believes that they are a fundamentally good person living in a fundamentatlly bad world, but that just doesn't add up. The line between good and evil goes through every heart, including mine. There is no 'us' and 'them'. War is a terrible, terrible thing. Peace sometimes comes at a price. In the end, true peace comes one heart at a time, and that peace was purchased with a death. But death doesn't have the final word...|W|P|113176450198368832|W|P|Remember|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/12/2005 03:42:00 a.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|This week's song is 'Fix you' by Coldplay. Great anytime, but something special at 5.40 am, just before going to work - dark morning outside, and the words and music pouring through the headphones. "When you try your best but you don't succeed When you get what you want but not what you need [there is such a difference between want and need] ... When the tears come streaming down your face When you lose something you can't replace When you love someone but it goes to waste Could it be worse? Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones And I will try to fix you High up above or down below When you're too in love to let it go If you never try you'll never know Just what you're worth Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones And I will try to fix you..." It's not just the lyrics, of course - but lyrics and music together have struck a deep chord. I need guidance on the road home. I want the fire and passion to ignite me from the inside out. I do try and try, but don't always succeed, and I do spend too much time trying to figure out what I'm worth. The broken bits in me do need fixing, do need mending. My husband, my family, my friends are all a part of that, but there is no person who can fix me. But there is Someone who does, and who wants to. This song is a hopeful song for me. May you receive the light you need for this part off the journey home.|W|P|113176394422187400|W|P|Song of the week|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/05/2005 06:41:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|I am now in the middle of the quintessential Canadian urban rite-of-passage for university graduates in the '90s: working at a coffee shop. (I'm more than a decade behind on this one, but still...) I submitted resumés to a number of different places, thinking that I would end up working as a medical secretary again. I have done several stints in medical admin over the years, and I have enjoyed that. However, the first place to call back was a coffee shop/café a mere ten minute walk from where we live. I went for an interview, which was nerve-wracking - it has been a really long time since I've been in that situation. Despite how short a time I will be in Toronto, and the fact that I don't drink coffee or like how it tastes, I got the job. (I do love how coffee smells.) I have never had a job like this before. It is physically demanding to be on your feet all day, and I am tired and footsore after every shift. I have never done shift-work before, and this is a mild form - no night shifts, and I am not working any evenings. The customer is always right in North America (not so in Sweden, or in Europe in general), and it takes a lot of emotional energy to be interacting with so many people all the time. I come home reeking of coffee after every shift, even my hair. I have always known that jobs like this were demanding, and I have always been impressed by people who cheerfully give their all while not receiving a ton of money in return. Now I have an even greater respect for people who work jobs like these, year in and year out. One of my co-workers works at the shop every weekday, and goes to school every evening and on Saturdays and Sundays. She never has a day off. I know a LOT more about coffee than I did three weeks ago. Yesterday was my first day on the big espresso and milk foaming machine, serving a number of customers - not just making a latte when there was only one customer in line and thus no time pressure. I still have to get better and faster, but I am learning. I am grateful to have this job, and it is a small dream come true, odd as that might sound - I have often thought that I would like to work in a café for a while, to know what that is like. I am tired. I am not a barista yet. I love having today off. * [I am not working for the green-and-white evil empire, just to make that clear.]|W|P|113121369144062508|W|P|Barista-in-training|W|P|susan@carlens.se11/05/2005 06:25:00 p.m.|W|P|Susan|W|P|I quote Emily Dickinson on the subject of autumn: "The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I'll put a trinket on." We have had a lovely autumn here. The past two days have been sunny and warm - golden days in November, which is the exception rather than the rule. The colours aren't as spectacular as some years - there isn't much red at all - but the yellows and oranges are wonderful. The first time I visited Sweden was a late October/early November, and Sweden obliged by giving us cold but sunny days, which is not the norm - November can be the most dismal month of the year, weather-wise. This is Anders' first autumn in Canada and the favour is being returned - Toronto is showing off with warm, sunny weather. Autumn has always been my favourite season. It, and not springtime, feels like the time of new beginnings, even though I haven't been in school in years. Today it is grey, and has rained briefly. There is plenty more of that to come, but that is okay. Every golden day in November is a gift.|W|P|113121210588920745|W|P|Showing off|W|P|susan@carlens.se