PERFECT COFFEE

Sunday morning, I bike to the Christian Science Church in SOHO on Wooster Street. The streets are (cobble stone?) and (whenever I'm down there on a Sunday morning) I feel like a tourist investigating a unique and untravelled neighborhood.

The church is (temporarily) installed in a glamorous store front right next to the likes of
"Patagonia" and "Leafe" (a monstrously overpriced furniture store).

The service is plain and direct. One reader reads from the bible, the other from Mary Baker Eddy.
The people (around 40 of them) are plain, good looking folk and because we're in SOHO, it feels like
everyone is rich.

I sit in a pew after my tiring cobble stoned bike ride and drink it all in. My eyes shut. My ears open to
any ideas that will correct my situation.

And ideas come forth.

I am told (in brief) that the material world is not real. The only real work is spiritual. Disease is a material idea of man.
Disease does not exist in the spiritual world or in G-d, so it cannot exist with spriitual man. Once you see this, that the only everlasting reality is G-d, and G-ds' love, (which is every where) your disease will cease to exist.

I speak to one or the reader's after the service and to a woman sitting next to me (she lives on Beekman place and looks rich)

They ask me about how I came to be here. Where I live. They talk about the new Church being renovated on Macdougle.

I tell the reader that I'm a little overwhelmed by these ideas and he says to remember that they are very simple.

I feel like I'm rushing a fraternity. I'm not good at joining groups but I often feel that way so I don't let it bother me.

I pick up some literature in the adjacent library. I select the monthly and weekly readers. I read testimonies of how illnesses were reversed, broken arms repaired. None of the illnesses are as intimidating as my undiagnosed terrible disease.

But it is a beautiful, sunny Sunday in SOHO and I parade my bicycle to CAFE CAFE and have coffee and a sour cream muffin and read Michael Musto's column in the Village Voice.

(I learn that the movie "Catch Me if You Can" has been turned into a Broadway musical with Tom Wopat playing the Christopher Walken role.)

The high from the coffee and muffin and the headiness of SOHO on a clear, Sunday morning informs my brain cells, and Mary Baker Eddy catches up with me.

I decide how I am, I am a reflection of G-d . G-d is perfect. I am perfect.