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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