Today, I want to suggest you engage in a little experiment. I am going to suggest you do something outside of your normal routine that takes you somewhere you wouldn't normally go and then just try to experience it-just be present in the moment and see and hear everything. The light, the sounds, the people. You don't have to do something profound. You can do this in the most ordinary way. I fell into a wonderful experience because of a plumbing problem at my house.
The Other World of the Laundromat.
Because of my plumbing problem, I had to go to the laundromat to clean my 
clothes. At the laundromat, I watch precision on a level of a military action. I watch mothers wrangle children while bringing in 14 tons of clothes (OK, not the actual weight but it looked like it), choose a line of washers, put in the clothes, the detergent, and money with an amazing assembly-line efficiency while their children run around them.
The languages in the laundromat are various, from English to Spanish to various Asian dialects; but it didn't matter, because we all understood each other in this place of common mission. We all got along; people held the doors open when someone was struggling in with a big load; people smiled if they made eye contact; communication is handled through hand gestures and broken English, and I think the common purpose. A man tapped me on the shoulder and held up a baby blanket he found in the parking lot. He didn't speak English so he just smiled, nodded and offered it. I smiled back and shook my head no. He then went to each woman in the building till he found the owner. We all realize we were here to get something done; and we try to make it as pleasant as we can for ourselves and each other. The place is noisy in a busy din of washing machines, dryers, adults and children. It is warm and light and bustling. I find it was a wonderful place to read because I have 42 minutes that I have to just hang out somewhere. Sometimes, the life around me drawd me from my book. Whether I read of watch people, the Laundromat forces me into a different time zone of wash and dry cycles. It slows me down. At home, I would be doing several things during the wash, but not here. I love my time-here-doing one thing and waiting (a luxury I have forgotten in my busy world).
I now take my laundry even though I had my sewer pipes snaked (Plumbereze for cleaned out so the flow is restored) because I ENJOY the atmosphere. I love the din of busy people; I love the laughter of children running up and down; I love the determination of their mothers; and I love the laughter I hear, many times coming in conversations that are spoken in languages I don't understand. It gives me a kind of peace and hope for humanity that I can't quite explain except to say, that the place gives us a commonality of purpose that works. Maybe we should negotiate peace treaties in laundromats among people who know how to work toward a common goal.
Jann