ROOM

     It is nice to hear people order their coffees with room. It is nice to order coffee and be asked, "Would you like some room?" Today, I almost replied back, "I'd like some rooms, maybe two or three. I'd like a meadow too, a sloping one with long Walt Whitman-y grasses."Room is a lovely word. Room. Room. Room. Words that end with the letter "m" almost hum on the way out of your mouth like a little nap. Mmmmmm. Mmmmmm. It would be nice if the word ruminate were spelled roominate because that would make the word and the mental action of ruminating seem less obsessive and more contemplative somehow, at least to me. To roominate would simply be this act of finding openings in one's thoughts. Although now, I am thinking of the poet Rumi and that makes the word ruminate do the same thing without changing the spelling to roominate. Yes, beauty, space, love. surrender, a Rumi-nation. Oh now wouldn't that be nice, to have a Rumi nation? Lot's of falling over in ecstasy I imagine and lots of whirling blissfully around. I think it might be a place better to visit than live. Though rumors would definitely be better if they were roomers. Those roomers, who needs them? They just take up room with all of that spreading around.
      I am now imagining Virginia Woolf in a cafe somewhere in a particularly happy mood, no rocks in her pockets, no dark mood crushing the stream of her important and beautiful observations. It is 2012, decades after, "A Room of One's Own" and she pops back from the whispery realm of the dead and into to the realm of the here and now. Mrs. Woolf orders tea. The person behind the counter asks, "Would you like you like some room?" Mrs. Woolf replies, "Why yes, yes, of course. Yes, of course and certainly. I indeed would like some room. I always like some room. Thank you."