I look out my workplace window and see a pot shop below. A green cross on a white field flag billows in the breeze. In the distance, clouds hang over the ocean.
The clock strikes three in the afternoon. I kind of wish I was building a driftwood fort in the clouds on the beach.
I’m designing an ad for a one-man carpet cleaning service. If I create a good ad, his business will improve and more dirty carpets in the community will be cleaned. I am mindful of my responsibility to create a good ad and take that responsibility seriously, and utterly without irony. I hope the carpet cleaner cleans carpets with the kind of mindfulness I practice designing his ad.
Are we mindful when we perform tasks? On my construction job, my boss demonstrated excellent mindfulness and it was occasionally punctuated with staccato glorious bursts of profanity, which in his case, improved the performance of the task at hand. Nothing like cursing motherfucker to focus the mind.
After the carpet cleaning ad, I’ll move onto the ad for the senior center lunch and hope I can find an elegant illustration of gravy. Then I’ll work on ads for chicken feed and a pancake breakfast to support a charitable cause.
I look at the pot shop again. Two young blonde women holding their phones in front of their faces walk in.
Out anther window I see a log truck rumble by. I wince on behalf of some murdered watershed.
What an interesting new journey I am on. I keep meeting so many fascinating people along the way, while others from my past continue to fade away.