Free Spirit

Caro had her fingernails painted this morning which she almost never does. She had attended a funeral the previous Saturday and had used press on nails only to cut them short to be able to work her job at the Atwater market.

"It's fun being a girl isn't it?" I tell her pointing to the tasteful colour she has applied to them and she gleefully agrees while adding a Cheshire cat smile.

We have developed a good rapport after seeing each other twice a week over several years. In her mid forties, possesses a cacophonous laugh which at first exposure shocks but one quickly gets used to. It comes from a genuine spirit which hints of emotional intelligence, sensitivity but also strength which one needs if your heart is carried on the sleeve.

We share little life catch up moments when she has time to come to my table. It's become a type of sisterhood I had not expected to find and hadn't thought to look for. It sprouted organically from my attraction to people who are almost frighteningly genuine.

As someone who lived under a mask for so long these connections have helped me come out from under my protective cover even more to solidify and anchor my own authenticity. She tells me she appreciates my wisdom and I admit to her my admiration for a spirit with such kindness and jubilant looseness.

It's the perfect exchange.