The Coffee Shop

Posted by admin - 15/09/14 at 12:09 pm

“Good morning,” Sarah said with a smile.
“Hi, Sarah. Hi, Anne,” I responded.
The 6:45 AM regulars, my coffee friends—a funny sort of kindred spirit.

What moves so many of us to select a particular spot, decide to make that “our place,” and flock there each morning with habitual zeal?
Why don’t we spend five minutes before bed setting up a pot at home, with our favorite beans and all the trimmings?
We wake up, push the start button and by the time we finish washing our face, the magic brew awaits, steaming and fresh.

But we don’t.
We hop into our cars with quiet anticipation, head straight for the shop without a second thought.
What pulls us in?
What strange allure magnetically tugs on our heart strings, causes us to go out of our way for a greeting and a grin—oh yeah, and a daily jolt.

Stuck in isolated cocoons, we humans crave a little interaction.
Surrounded by strife and chaos—the job, the task list, the family or the loneliness of not having one—we fragile creatures yearn for a painless trade.
You welcome and embrace me, even if only on a superficial level and I will return for more of the same, a tiny sliver of recognition and friendship without attachments.
Coffee simply gives me the excuse.

Too often, we preoccupy and clutter our minds with trivia:
“Why do so many people use my freeway?—“  as if this condition should have changed since yesterday.
“How come I never have any time?—“ even though I failed to sit down and make a plan like I promised myself since last January.
“When will I slow down?—“ an odd thought considering I choose shock-jocks over silence on my drive and reality shows over an evening of reflection.

We run from one activity to another, fill our calendar with happenings and events—make up stuff if we have a blank space.
What terror lurks behind stillness of mind?
What monsters dwell in the recesses, threatening to reveal us to ourselves, naked and flawed?

We crave companionship and seek solace.
We build support teams for our survival without much consideration of the quality of the relationships—mostly bodies that perpetuate the emotional comfort zone.
Another day, another click on the ticker of life.

What would happen if we turned our eyes inward and kept them open for a spell?
Who might we discover?

I rise at dawn, when the sun first creeps in through my bedroom window.
I get up, collect myself and walk out the door.
I’m in search of a smile to start my day.
And a cup of coffee.

That’s A View From The Ridge…

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