It is cold but sunny. A day in the city, well earned respite after a morning of taxing work. Embrace the frigid sunshine as the day beats down on well worn asphalt. February 14th - and yet, there is only a trace of the commercial lovey dovey hearts and flowers - other than that, it is a regular day on Haight street. Hipsters with their buffalo plaid and expensive haircuts mix with tourists in oversized sweatshirts.
Neither one nor the other, I stroll, earbuds firmly stationed at my canals - comfy in sweats and hoodie. Not in love nor in hate. I am just IN the world at the moment...looking for a present. Finding the best one is the quest.
a cupcake pendant necklace
a bag of wonderfully soft and cuddly yarn, 3 skeins for $6.50
a pink cowboy hat with a silver sequined brim and rhinestone tiara glued on
Contentment in finding the funniest, cutest and quirkiest gifts for my secret pal. I stop by one more store, aptly named on this day of days, The Love of Ganesha.
A store I have often passed with an untold yearning to step beyond it's gilded silken curtain. Where wafts patchouli and incense; somehow promising a strange foreign bazaar just past its threshold. Pretension and hesistance have kept me, time and time again avoiding the embroidered tops, bronze statues and flowered leis - but today, just today, I allow my baby girl her one flight of fancy. Inside, there is warmth. There is laughter, light, bells of jeweled anklets tinkle and baskets of flowers, semi-precious stones and candles just lie, glowing gently. The ladies gossip with one another, as they must have done since the beginning of time. About children, about food, about their health. They offer to watch my oversized shopping bag and for some reason, I willingly agree.A couple of times, one of the propietors - watching me peer at items curiously - catches my eyes. In our own silent way, we express the fact that I'm just looking at this point. I go deeper and deeper into the store, passing carved mirrors and wardrobes, swathes of silken and beaded cloth, more statues, masks and journals.
Everywhere there is color paired with the glint of gold, bronze, silver. I find a set of pikake flower candles for the cast girls and do at least three passes through the store, trying to find something that catches my attention. It is Valentine's Day after all, and if you cannot find someone else to love you, you might as well try yourself. Right? But I end up letting my thrift and lack of funds get to me, and just pick up the candles. As I am leaving though, thanking the saleswomen profusely, the other one catches my hand and puts something into it.
"Here, this is for you."
I initially try to give it back - I don't know what it is and I can't accept her generosity right away. I mean, I've only spent $10 in this store of gorgeous items. But she insists and we lock eyes again and there is no obligation...it's a gift. And I look at it more closely - a simple hair clip. Bright yellow silk gerbera daisies. Nothing I would have chosen for myself. Purples and reds call more often to me. But this day, it is gorgeous. And it makes me smile. After thanking the ladies, I say goodbye and pass back through the curtain...
Nearly run over by a bicylist who stops his tires just inside the front walkway. But he catches himself and I try to move past him and we dance around each other, not knowing which way to turn. Finally, we laugh, excuse ourselves and make eye contact for a single second. In that single second, I know that he is a kindred spirit - we have been drawn to this store for the same reason. It's not love, it's not even infatuation, it is that rare moment of recognizing the human in someone else and honoring it. An unspoken namaste - if you believe in that sort of thing.
There is a part of my body that walks, healed or relaxed or comforted back towards the car, tucking the clip up into a sheaf of hair. Smile at the people that walk by or stop their cars for me at intersections. A day to honor love and for love to honor us.
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