Newtown Intuition

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

After a slow, relaxing morning, complete with tea, yoga, and the Five Tibetan Rites, I ventured off to Newtown to spend the whole day by myself. At first I found myself rushing, as if I had an appointment I might miss. Then I realized: I have the whole day… Nowhere to be, no one to cater to - just me, myself and I on an exploratory adventure. I slowed my pace and started to do things that I might do with a kindred spirit as a travel buddy. I hummed a tune from a musical, pointed out funny store names, and mentioned how glad I was that I’d chosen to wear my sneakers. I slowed my footsteps even further as I walked under a canopy of green. I noticed, with a small giggle, an overwhelming scent of eucalyptus and menthol. I breathed the earthy, herbal scent deep into my lungs and said under my breath, “How wonderful… Thank you!”

As I rounded the bend, I saw that I had entered the hub of Newtown. Realizing that my throat was parched, I bought myself some coconut water and meandered into a huge, used bookstore. It was wonderful… I was pleased to find it smelled just like a used bookstore that you’d find anywhere else in the world! The same colorful spines, texture worn down from being held and opened and discovered by countless other humans. Stacked upright, with not so much as one extra page to fit between them; looking disorderly in their organization. Hardbacks with barely-visible titles contained yellow pages decorated with coffee stains, hanging on to their binding as if each page knew the importance of their presence as part of the whole.

I practiced exercising this newly discovered - or rather, newly appreciated - muscle of mine: intuition. Letting my eyes follow my mind, I snatched up books that caught my third eye and thumbed through their delicate insides, like a little girl who’s stumbled upon her mother’s jewelry box. Curious and happy, I learned tidbits of delightfully useless information. Such as, the first jam to ever be invented was quince jam. It was made by peeling the fruit, then boiling it in honey until it’s half its mass and the hard parts can be removed. Then it is finished with a sprinkling of ground pepper. I thought of all the apron-clad women who have used this recipe, serving it with tea and cakes as part of their afternoon tea… The most fascinating thing about used books, is that a book is not just a story. It is a story with a story.

Satisfied with my discovery, I continued my wandering, smiling at a cute young man on my way to a Thai restaurant that I spontaneously decided to eat at. Considering that one block earlier I’d seen another Thai restaurant with mains listed at $17.90, I just simply couldn’t turn down this one: my favorite curry listed at $7.90! With appetite satiated, I continued my journey with no plan in particular except to eventually get to the Bodhi Books & Gifts that’d I’d seen in passing last week. I’d followed the proverbial scent of the shop with my intuitive nose. Interestingly enough, I accidentally took a “wrong” turn (as wrong as one can be in a neutral situation), and ended up skirting around the block the shop was located on. In my detour, I found yet another lovely used bookstore, in which I bought a book by a poet I’d never heard of. I wondered about the credentials of said bookstore’s owner when he gave me a quizzical look upon my inquiry about R.W. Emerson. Apparently he’s never heard of him. Hmm.

My next discovery was a positively delightful experience. I stumbled into a stone and gem store and was found subsequently in a deluge of fascinating information pouring forth from the balding owner, in a show-&-tell format, complete with heavy London accent. At one point I was holding in my hand a 180 million year old fossil of the original chambered nautilus, fossilized in ammonite. He showed me gems that could supposedly heal me (smoky quartz) and stones that could literally kill me (arsenopyrite). I ended up spending more than I intended (I hadn’t intended to spend anything at all) and was more than happy to do so.

Finally, I made it to my Bodhi Books & Gifts. It smelled of sweet incense, and was being maintained by the kind of woman you’d expect to be working at a store full of books on meditation, Buddha and the Dalai Lama. The most intriguing bit of the shop was the children’s books corner. “Yoga & Meditation: For Children” & “Start Early with Practicing Mindfulness” and other such titles populated the shelves. I tucked away this genre of books in the back of my mind for later years. After some heavy deliberation (I’d already bought a book today - not practical for a traveller who also happens to be on a budget), I bought yet another book. A small one, however. It’s ironically titled, “Making Space: Creating a Home Meditation Practice.” Ideal train reading, I decided.

Last stop in Newtown for today: Froyo. Nothing like a frozen yogurt fruit smoothie on a warm, sticky day. Especially if that frozen yogurt is coconut flavored and the fruit is mango and passionfruit. “Last purchase!” she tells herself… “What a marvelous day,” she continues. “Yes, quite splendid indeed,” herself replies back.