My Coffee is Warm



This is my truth, the truth that is always true. It has taken me years and years and years to get too. So many hours, so many early mornings, so many coffees, so many places, so much time spent. 

Over the years, over the course of my life, things change. I change, my weight changes, my body shape changes, the cities I live in changes. I'm in different states, different countries, different places. I have a lot, then I have nothing. I'm in good health, then I feel sick. Friends and people I meet come and go. Best friends become enemies and enemies have become best friends. Everything changes. I'm married, now I'm divorced. I was raising my kids, now they live someplace else. 

It's nice outside, then it's not. A storm rolls in and it's crummy and gloomy, then it's sunny and beautiful. Everything changes. 

Times are hard, then they're good. I have bad days, then I have good days. I'm anxious, then I'm at peace. Everything changes. I have been filled and overwhelmed with profound sadness and debilitating depression, then somehow I find energy, love and hope. I have been in times that are secure, at other times have had tremendous worry about how tomorrow would happen. I have felt that I "can't even" anymore, then somehow "I can." 

Through all of the changes there is one thing that remains constant,
My coffee is warm and the Lord is with me. 
That is my distilled truth that is true every day. It's the only thing in my life that's the same. 

I even say it this way too, my coffee is warm and my breath is with me. Because, for me, my breath is linked to the holy and transcendent presence of a greater being. Call it God or call it the Universe. I don't care what YOU call it. Not going to get hung up in terminology. My breath is more than just oxygen in my lungs. It's the wind in my sail, the source of my life, the pulse in my veins and fire in my furnace. My breath is linked to love and hope and peace and mercy and everything that is good. My breath keeps me going. I didn't always realize this at first, I had to find it. 

In a world of constant change, both in the "big-picture" world and in my world, everything changes. In the swirling chaos of life's worries and tomorrow's drowning anxieties, my coffee time is my anchor. It's a place I can come back to center. It's the present hour, the place that divides yesterday from tomorrow. It's the place I, again, remember, that I can't control everything and that I need to let go of the anxieties of wanting to control everything. My coffee reminds me that I may not be able to control what I want to, but what I can control is this…right now. My coffee reminds me that,  I'm okay, I'm here, I made it. The worst is over, I survived because I'm here. I'm healthy and whole. I'm intact. I'm sitting here, at this place, with coffee, that I paid for, that I'm fortunate to have. I'm clean. I took a shower. I traveled to get here. I'm in a good spot. This is a luxury. I'm so blessed. This mug is nice. I have don't everything, but I have this, and this is good. Do I hate this, no..HELL NO. I'm happy, okay then, so I hold onto this and embrace it. This is my present moment and I'm good. 

I've lost everything. No, like literally everything. My worst fears and come to fruition. All my money, gone. My possessions, gone. Home, gone. My kids, gone. My time, gone. People, gone. I have lost so much and even when I thought I had nothing else to lose, turns out I was wrong, there was. No what was always the same though, my coffee hour. My coffee is always warm and I always have my breath. 

I sip that coffee, that warm beautiful brown bean water. It's warm, it's nice. Some bitter notes of milk chocolate, maybe black cherry. I sip and swirl, savoring the sensations of flavor in my mouth. I put the cup down, mindful of how I placed the mug, handle out so it's easier to grab right away next time I want a sip. I inhale, feeling my chest slowly swell, hearing the audible breeze or air passing up and through my nostrils, feeling the tiny micro tingles as the air pushes past my nose hairs. It's a deep breath, a slow breath. 

Now I exhale. Keeping my lips sealed, I squeeze my breath through my throat, gently, like I would if I attempted to fog up a mirror. It's a soft and low audible rumble. I'm the only one that can probably hear it, but I do, I listen for it. Listening to my breath is part of this moment. I'm breathing, I have my breath, I don't have a lot, but I have that, so I hold onto it. It's special to me. It reminds me that I'm here, that I'm okay, that I'm good. I have my breath which means I have another opportunity to live. 

Yesterday is gone, tomorrow isn't here yet, I'm here, right here. I feel my feet on the floor, gripping my toes to the soles of my shoes, feeling to earth beneath me, I sit up straighter, removing the slouch from my spine, I feel the chair under my bottom. I'm arriving. I arrived. My coffee is warm and my breath is with me. Everything is okay right now, this is my centering piece, or maybe it's my centering peace. This is my anchor, the calming eye of a storm. This is my one constant. The place I arrive to time and time again. I'm back, I'm here, my coffee, my journal, my pen, my breath, myself.

This reminds me of what it true, what is real and what is not real. When life is pulling me in all kinds of directions, to the right and to the left, this is what brings me to center. This is my sacred space, my sanctuary. 


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