I may have needed a crowbar or two, but suddenly my eyes are starting to open. I can see the shape of things, faces are coming into focus — was that you with that great mess of hair and skin that smelled of lilacs and tobacco?, — but I want to take it easy, easy and allow myself to look at the world as if it were the first time I’ve seen it. Over the years I’ve been in alternating states of chrysalis, and part of the journey is understanding and accepting the alterations. Life tailoring, if you will. Those eyes that you’d always known to be brown suddenly blink blue. That Madame Bovary, once a woman for whom you felt sympathy, is now a wanton trollop. That smiling baker who handed you a thick slice of Brooklyn Blackout Cake will transform into Luigi, a Soul Cycle zealot with an affection for batter.
But you have to be ready for the altering, ready to shed what you thought you knew to discover what’s next.
Today I returned to Little Cupcake Bakeshop (that’s my photo in the rotating slide show!), a magical place replete with towering cakes in glass domes and cupcakes with tufts of blond icing. I’ve been to this shop more times than I care to admit, but today was different. Today I paused, got to know some of the lovely folks who run the shop, and savored my cake and coffee.
And wouldn’t you know that the cake I’ve always loved tastes a little different, richer, smokier, sweeter. You just have to open your eyes to it. Each day, I tell myself, the world becomes clearer.