Sensual Harmonies

 The tea at the Aja Ching coffee house is spiritually substantive. It is lemony mixed with an audio-sublime hum that rings in your ears when you drink it, hold it in your palms or twist it in slow circles on its saucer.

 Woman: "But how, how can the lemon tea replace the warm mist of your shower breath on my neck and ear--full of shampoo as it is?"

 Man: "It cannot, of course. Let's not pretend it can by rolling in reminiscences [scents? scents of lemon?] of early days of our love, cluttered with less memory."

 Author: "When the dining room chandelier reflects off the living room plate windows, I see me as a writer, no a scribe engraving each next word on paper without lines."

 The yin-yang revolving over the door into the Aja Ching coffee house either sets a mood to appeal to a well-defined slice of the demographic pie; or could it be that the founders of the Aja Ching coffee house just felt it appropriate to not only place a yin-yang over their entrance, but also to set it in circular motion for purely aesthetic [or purely (appropriately) spiritual] reasons.

 Whatever the case, it works and people flock--no, attend--the Aja Ching coffee house enough to justify its continued existence. Flock is simply not the right word. The flocks of society certainly do not attend this shop since as trendy popular hangouts go, the Aja Ching coffee house happily fails.

 Author: "A man set up a table on campus one day. He sold hand-made clothes and bags and jewelry and wooden boxes. They were made in Thailand or somewhere else in Southeast Asia. This day, I was in a mood to spread love and compassion. With a new friend, I walked by the table and I was prepared to simply lend this friend seventy dollars to buy a beautiful dress if she hadn't enough money in her bank account. We checked at the bank machine and found she did have enough. So we returned to the table and, impulsively, she bought the dress. The large bills in my wallet remained but I felt happy anyway because I would have gladly parted with seventy dollars [plus tax] for several days for this new friend. Not a terribly self-sacrificing feat I'm aware, but it was the thought that counted. And my new friend thanked me for my offer. She then gave me a hug and as I nestled my head on her right shoulder, my reward gleamed into my eye as I looked to the table to see among the jewelry a small tin cylinder container with a lid that had a yin-yang adorning it. This was the subject of my glance. I impulsively paid the man five dollars and slipped the universe into my pocket."

 "The Aja Ching coffee house exists because it has to." These words are printed in a prominent place on a wall inside. The founders merely realized that such a place is necessary for the maintenance of balanced spirituality in the world. The place is never crowded, but it is always busy with both regulars and strangers treating each other with equal respect because merely Being There affords them that privilege. People arrive there day and night to eat, drink, talk . . . and to share spirits.

 Man: "I bite a stalk of celery in half and peel the grainy strings off. They hang, curled, out of my mouth like pasta. There is sensuality here, in this image, but I don't fully understand why."

 After fresh-baked breads and warmed drinks, two or more friends can leave the Aja Ching coffee house on a windy, sprinkling day and walk to a nearby field beside the ocean. There, for as long as they wish, they can hang a kite in the sky. In the daytime, the wind from the ocean blows just as strongly and constantly as the night breeze from the land. This makes kite-flying possible at any time of day. Launching and flying a kite is the only thing people can do that actually equates spending some time at the Aja Ching coffee house. Sending up a kite and feeling it play in the wind is about as close to truly feeling Momentary Experience as you can get--except for being at the Aja Ching coffee house, of course.

 Woman: "Love in Momentary Experience comes from your soul, not your mind. You cannot love with your mind, you love with your heart. I love the celery strings hanging from your mouth because it is You slurping them through your teeth. And it is You, I love."

 Author: "With the universe tucked tightly into my pocket, I walk on with my new friend into our respective futures. I contemplate the concept of the universe held in my small, tin container. The pairadox there is special and close to my heart. I think that I [my soul] will always be alive and I think of the ways people have described the yin-yang to me. As genders, opposites, conflicts, halves. The conclusion I feel in my soul is that within the yin-yang is "all things." A pretty large concept to grapple with rationally, so I switch to intuition to Know that whatever I place in my container is equated with the universe. I peel off a strip of this un-lined paper, write the words "Aja Ching" on it, ball it up, and stuff it into my container. I feel in touch with those in the universe whom I Love.

 "I am on the seashore when I begin my walk up to the Aja Ching coffee house. Along my journey I see two lovers standing in the misty rain in a field flying a kite. They munch on carrots and celery. The woman looks to me and smiles. I grin back and we look up to the kite just as it flips in the breeze from the white side to the other side, painted black. I look down to the man, whose eyes are grinning at me. I grin my eyes back to him and I keep walking. Reaching into my pocket, I feel the tin container and I can't help but think of those I Love.

 "Leaving the field, I head to the Aja Ching coffee house where I see the revolving yin-yang outside and my friends gathered sitting at a table inside. I reach for the doorknob, open the door, take a deep breath and walk into . . . me."
I AM the Aja Ching Coffee House.

Stephen Buckley
Copyright 1989, 2003
10.23.89, 12.04.03