Especially For Teachers Who Attended Conference

8 a.m., August 10, 2015

I often start my day with hot water or tea. If breakfast isn’t cereal, it’s tomato juice, dry whole-wheat or rye toast, egg whites or egg substitute with my hash browns. But this morning I’m on the outside terrace of the Inn on Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina, after completing the conference at the YMCA nearby.

After my morning practice I’ve come down from the sixth floor to dine with nature and soft piano music from the tall pianist I’d made eye contact with yesterday as I waited in the hotel lobby to check in. Was I the only one appreciating his talent?

We are never the same but I’m a different person this morning. I’m moved to compassionate tears for the familiar strangers sitting at tables nearby and for the world. Am I the only one seeing the beauty of this precious moment?

Carlos the waiter pours coffee and I don’t speak. He delivers orange juice and I thank him. I find myself ordering heirloom tomato and basil eggs Benedict with roasted potato. The food is unfamiliar to my pallet but it’s beautifully presented and delicious. Tomorrow I’ll return to Minnesota and probably to my usual breakfast but my taste has matured.

Oh look, the fog here has moved in, but I woke up seeing clearly.