Like many people, I have a morning ritual. The highlight of this ritual is the pilgrimage to the java temple, otherwise known to me as Starbucks. Sure, I could brew my morning tea at home for a fraction of the cost but I appreciate having a small, achievable goal to start my day off. "If I get out of bed today, I get to go to Starbucks. And after that, I get to go to work." Do you see how the prospect of work becomes appealing with the intermediary step?
So there I stood in line yesterday morning, still sleepy-eyed and slightly groggy. I never acclimate well to early morning starts, and this morning was a particularly early one.
The customer at the counter paid for her beverage, turned, and regarded those of us crammed into the available standing space of the small caffeine chapel.
I stepped to the left just as the woman in front of me stepped to the right. Lo! The sea of pilgrims parted before her like the sea in front of Moses.
The moment struck me as a mundane mystery. After all, how often does one get to be the parted sea, both separate and confluent all at the same time?
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