People Born Into Bodies

People born into bodies.

Sitting in a Berkeley coffee shop, working on the astronomy and doing what I do best which is observing peope.
I like to think that I am not judging, simply looking, taking people in. A girl with a hesitant look on her face approaches the counter, she could ask for help but chooses not to, instead she looks around, baffled, wondering where the garbage is. She finds it, goes to drop the paper napkin inside but stops and reads what's on the lid.
I see her as a woman then see her as someone living in a body that is a woman. And I think of how much we are defined by these bodies we inhabit.
A man sits at a table beside me, his back is very erect, hair tied back in a short ponytail, the executive posture in line with the executive expressionless face. As something relaxes he slouches, what just let go there? His elbow is now on the table, hand pressed against his face, a posture much more aligned with his casual board shorts and flip flops. As if he was trying to be something and then slipping into the not trying and just being. I wait for the switch to go off again, when he'll straighten up again.
There it is.

And to some certain degree there is the thought of that being wrong, or that it could be better...