Saturday, October 13, 2012

The Starbucks Living Room

Peace can come in room filled with strangers all doing the same thing. We sit inches apart not talking, working on laptops, getting lost in technology, daydreaming, reading a book, staring out the window, people watching and drinking coffee all while getting away to our own private island of Starbucks.

The homeless man who sits out front all the way to the right of the Starbucks with his cup on the corner of the table silently asking for help, the grey specked haired man who was laid off from his job and is still carrying his briefcase to Starbucks everyday in his job hunt, the little group of teenagers giggling about something one of them said, the woman with tears in her eyes as she reads in the darker corner without a window nearby, the creative college student with five books open and a pink bed head look going on, and the barista who has been working here for as long as I can remember still smiling but truly hiding here, the single woman whose dream is to write to help people and have a family, the single man who has lost his dream and just works long hours now. They are all here on the island.

It’s day one of hanging out in my Starbucks living room trying to figure it all out. There’s this huge pile of papers, drawers out of control, dishes to be done, laundry in the basket and I decided to run away and spend some time with my God trying to figure it out. I could stay home and face the music of the many “things” to do. Yet, all I want to do is go hang out in my Starbucks living room and make a plan, my grand plan. Its what I do when life change happens.

I run away to my little corner booth at my favorite anonymous Starbucks seeking that peace I need. I can’t find my peace in a house with roommates where my space is a room I rent filled with mirror’s of my internal mess I don’t want to look at.

I almost always change up the music that goes into my head when I go to Starbucks unless they are playing Beatles, 60’s or something sweet and jazzy. I get comfy with my poor girl version of a personalized coffee drink that I doctor up with my own flare and write out my next dream. I start making a plan so I can feel like I have some sense of control. I am all about organization and having everything all planned out into a calendar that tells me what to do.

Reality though is that my world is not in my control. I like to think I have it all planned out but it never seems to turn out how I think it will.  I can work like a dog on overdrive and miss really seeing people and their needs, miss out on feeling anything, miss out on being who I am, and miss out on giving or I can stop and take a look around so I don’t miss it.

I don’t want to look back on my life years from now and wish I had taken the time to get direction and listen to that good advice. I want to take it and live in the present not in this future I would hope to have for myself.

What amazes me is that when I get away for these little times of siesta is that I can find my feet beneath me again. I find that I have been running too fast and I need to stop and get some perspective. I get some perspective and I find some sense of direction as to where to put my next foot in front of the other.  I would encourage you to find your feet on your island wherever that is. My island is a Starbucks living room where I can stop and truly see.

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