After I had tripped in, late and breathless, I would sit there with my coffee and smile at you. Hopefully you would smile back. I would ask you how you’re doing, you would answer with (insert typical answer here) and then ask how I’m doing. I would get a look on my face that resembled something between a grimace and a smirk, and I would tilt my head, and this is what I would say.
“I’ve been thinking - if I were some sort of goddess, and I had complete control over everything, my life wouldn’t be the way it is right now. That seems painfully obvious, but - think about it.
If I could choose the people that I would be friends with, the situations I would be in, the events I would experience - they would all be completely different than the friends and situations and events currently in my life.
But I’m no goddess-”
You would snort with laughter at this point.
“-and I can’t control what happens in my life. All I can do is control my reactions and my attitude.”
Now you would lean back in your chair, because you can tell that I’m going to take you on a trip with me through my thought process, and that’s always an adventure.
“I’ve been in a really reflective mood the past few days. Part of me is surprised that I’m still a fairly sane person, after the insanity of the past year. There were times I thought I would just stop functioning. I don’t know if I told you about that.”
You would slowly shake your head, and try to catch my eye, but I would be looking out the window.
“But you know what? I wouldn’t change any of it. I learned a lot about myself through all that happened. I learned how easy it is to become someone I don’t like, and I learned what really matters to me. I learned how amazing it feels to be genuine.”q
Here I pause, and we sit there with our coffee, and we are silent. It’s one of those moments that feels surreal, because you have stopped and life has continued on around you.
“Sometimes the memories hit me so hard that I can’t move and can’t think, I’m filled with what I never told anyone and I ache for things I shouldn’t have said. Still - I wouldn’t change it, even if I could.”
I sit up straighter now, and put both hands around my coffee cup.
“So, in my mind, I’ve been going over the story of my life so far. And then I start thinking about my life right now.
Like I said earlier - I can’t control what’s happening. I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, heck, I don’t even know what’s going to happen in the next 10 minutes. But I’m learning to accept that.
I’m an optimist by nature, I continually look forward and up for what’s coming next. That’s usually a good thing. And when I look up, I see beautiful things like the sky and the tops of trees - but I can unintentionally avoid meeting the eyes of the people around me. Looking forward is essential to knowing where I’m headed, but so is looking backward at what I’ve come through.
Another thing - I ask a ton of questions. Usually that’s a good thing, too. But I realized that sometimes I get so busy and noisy with all my questioning that I completely miss the answers that are right in front of me. I’m so bad at being quiet and just paying attention.”
Now you smile knowingly at me, because you have experienced firsthand my ability to question absolutely everything, and my tendency to be loud.
“And I’ve been thinking about all this, and I thought ‘What do I do now?’ And I realized that the answer was ‘Be quiet.’
So that’s what I’m doing. One thing that I’m trying: on Tuesday, February 16th, I turned off the stereo in my car. I’m not totally sure when I’m going to turn it on. This timing happened to coincide with Lent, but that’s not the reason I’m doing it.
I needed to find a time, every day, that I could just listen. A lot of the time I end up singing jazz standards, or acoustic love songs, but a lot of the time I just drive in silence. Surprisingly, I like it. I like all the extra time I have to think.
Another thing - I’m focusing on is trying to swallow my questions and be grateful for the answers that I do have.
Also, I’m working on accepting things they way they are, at this moment, instead of always waiting for something else. Sure, I still have hopes - but I’m working on enjoying things without having unrealistic expectations. ‘Expect nothing, appreciate everything,’ that sort of thing.
And, maybe most importantly - I’m listening to what I hear. My friends say some AMAZING things -”
You nod graciously.
“ -I don’t appreciate that enough.”
Then I apologize for rambling on for so long, and you say no, it’s alright. Then I ask about your day and what’s going on in your life, because it matters to me.
After we’ve said everything on our hearts, we throw away our coffee cups, say bye to the baristas (at least I do) and walk our separate ways down the street.
And as I leave, I think “Man - I’m so glad I know (insert your name here). I’m glad I got to have coffee with (insert your name again), I needed that.”
“I’ve been thinking - if I were some sort of goddess, and I had complete control over everything, my life wouldn’t be the way it is right now. That seems painfully obvious, but - think about it.
If I could choose the people that I would be friends with, the situations I would be in, the events I would experience - they would all be completely different than the friends and situations and events currently in my life.
But I’m no goddess-”
You would snort with laughter at this point.
“-and I can’t control what happens in my life. All I can do is control my reactions and my attitude.”
Now you would lean back in your chair, because you can tell that I’m going to take you on a trip with me through my thought process, and that’s always an adventure.
“I’ve been in a really reflective mood the past few days. Part of me is surprised that I’m still a fairly sane person, after the insanity of the past year. There were times I thought I would just stop functioning. I don’t know if I told you about that.”
You would slowly shake your head, and try to catch my eye, but I would be looking out the window.
“But you know what? I wouldn’t change any of it. I learned a lot about myself through all that happened. I learned how easy it is to become someone I don’t like, and I learned what really matters to me. I learned how amazing it feels to be genuine.”q
Here I pause, and we sit there with our coffee, and we are silent. It’s one of those moments that feels surreal, because you have stopped and life has continued on around you.
“Sometimes the memories hit me so hard that I can’t move and can’t think, I’m filled with what I never told anyone and I ache for things I shouldn’t have said. Still - I wouldn’t change it, even if I could.”
I sit up straighter now, and put both hands around my coffee cup.
“So, in my mind, I’ve been going over the story of my life so far. And then I start thinking about my life right now.
Like I said earlier - I can’t control what’s happening. I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, heck, I don’t even know what’s going to happen in the next 10 minutes. But I’m learning to accept that.
I’m an optimist by nature, I continually look forward and up for what’s coming next. That’s usually a good thing. And when I look up, I see beautiful things like the sky and the tops of trees - but I can unintentionally avoid meeting the eyes of the people around me. Looking forward is essential to knowing where I’m headed, but so is looking backward at what I’ve come through.
Another thing - I ask a ton of questions. Usually that’s a good thing, too. But I realized that sometimes I get so busy and noisy with all my questioning that I completely miss the answers that are right in front of me. I’m so bad at being quiet and just paying attention.”
Now you smile knowingly at me, because you have experienced firsthand my ability to question absolutely everything, and my tendency to be loud.
“And I’ve been thinking about all this, and I thought ‘What do I do now?’ And I realized that the answer was ‘Be quiet.’
So that’s what I’m doing. One thing that I’m trying: on Tuesday, February 16th, I turned off the stereo in my car. I’m not totally sure when I’m going to turn it on. This timing happened to coincide with Lent, but that’s not the reason I’m doing it.
I needed to find a time, every day, that I could just listen. A lot of the time I end up singing jazz standards, or acoustic love songs, but a lot of the time I just drive in silence. Surprisingly, I like it. I like all the extra time I have to think.
Another thing - I’m focusing on is trying to swallow my questions and be grateful for the answers that I do have.
Also, I’m working on accepting things they way they are, at this moment, instead of always waiting for something else. Sure, I still have hopes - but I’m working on enjoying things without having unrealistic expectations. ‘Expect nothing, appreciate everything,’ that sort of thing.
And, maybe most importantly - I’m listening to what I hear. My friends say some AMAZING things -”
You nod graciously.
“ -I don’t appreciate that enough.”
Then I apologize for rambling on for so long, and you say no, it’s alright. Then I ask about your day and what’s going on in your life, because it matters to me.
After we’ve said everything on our hearts, we throw away our coffee cups, say bye to the baristas (at least I do) and walk our separate ways down the street.
And as I leave, I think “Man - I’m so glad I know (insert your name here). I’m glad I got to have coffee with (insert your name again), I needed that.”
