Meet my friend the carbiner fan.
We all have "go to" habits to de-stress, calm the fidgets, fight boredom and fatigue. A market friend has been going through the trials of quitting smoking. Stepping away from the booth and into the middle of the cobble stoned street to smoke is a standard move for many who work the market. I suggested she find her "inner cigarette".
I've never smoked. Food was my drug for years. Now as a diabetic my eating "go to" choices have narrowed. My glib "find your inner cigarette" was a sincere attempt to counteract her culprits of calm.
My techniques vary from day to day, hour to hour, depending on the flow of the market day.
I've taken up the study of the Thai Language. "Why Thai?" you may ask. Well, there are a few Thai families at the market and they have been patiently teaching me Thai sporadically for the last 6 years with minimal success. It finally dawned on me that I have an incredible opportunity to learn a language of a country that I would like to visit someday and actually have native speakers around me to help hone my language skills. So I have taken my simple "sawatdee ka" (hello) and have gone fully into "De chan kos beea song kuat ka" (I would like 2 bottles of beer). Evidently the people that create the "Learn to Speak Thai" lessons think that this is a good way to start you on your way to fluency. While waiting for customers I study my workbook, mumbling the words out loud. I fit right in with the other lone "out loud" mumblers, speakers and shouters that walk through as I sit at my booth.
The market offers unlimited distractions while waiting for customers. Tour leaders carry different colored umbrellas, pumping them up and down to gain the attention of the group then holding them primly upright like Mary Poppins leading a parade. Pink Umbrella girl marches by with a large group speaking a language that I don't recognize. She makes a sweeping motion with one arm like an American football player making a pass and points southward into the market. I think that I can safely guess this is an attempt to convey "that is where they throw the fish".
Today was stunningly beautiful. Seattle at it's best. To the west across the water, the snow capped Olympic Mountain Range was clearly visible. For most of the day the sky was a cerulean blue fading to powder blue at the horizon. The sun held that lovely healing warmth that we long for all winter. Early in the day the air had a cool tinge to it. My routine for days such as this: under my umbrella sipping hot tea until I've got a slight chill on my skin - then pull my chair out from under my umbrella and bask in the sun like a lizard on a rock until all of my muscles have absorbed the warmth - then back under the umbrella again to cool down. Repeat. I refer to this as my "Market Spa".
A visitor has noticed the sign across the street and asks about the information booth. The sign, looking like a Disneyland castoff, was installed last year on a confusing corner of 3 intersecting roads - Pike Place, Western and Virginia. There are 4 arms to the sign. 1 points to "Pike Place Market" - Correct. The 2nd to "Sculpture Park" - Correct. 3rd "West Lake Station" - Correct. 4th - "Maps and Information". Well it actually points to the park inhabited by the homeless and indigent. Drug deals are rampant. The tourists, I hope blind to everything but the view, haven't asked about the non-existent information booth until now.
As for my "inner cigarette" - I keep occupied with my Thai Lessons and my "spa activity". I absorb my surroundings, the people that inhabit this space around me, and notate them in my journal. I asked a dear friend, a student of all things "chakra", if she could teach me to breathe. I practice her techniques. One of which is to envision a sphere of light around your heart and to have that light extend around your entire body as a protective shield.
End of the day though I press speed dial #2 on my phone - "Market Security". - Hi, this is Kat Allen near the north end pergola. "What can I do for you?" - Can you send someone out here while I pack up? There's a guy out here. "What's he doing?" - Lurking.
Now if I did smoke, I would have just lit up and stepped back from the booth and attempted to look as if I didn't even care. I'll have to work more on my breathing and envisioning the protective sphere of light.
