The Coffee Shop

I walked in to the empty, but for the two employees, coffee shop.  It was small, clean, pleasant.  And mine.

I ordered a frozen coffee drink.  A blueberry streusel.

Quietly I took a seat.  It didn’t take long to devour the streusel.  It was flaky.  And good.  Not too sweet.  But plenty sweet enough.

I sat.

I took the time to look around the coffee shop.  There was nothing to distract me.  Other than my thoughts.  When I looked at the clock I had only been there ten minutes.

My brain started to switch to thoughts of what I needed to do back at the office.

I made myself stop thinking of that.   And think of something, anything, else.  Something other than what I have to do.   Enjoy not having to do something.  For twenty more minutes.  I do not need to rush back just because I finished the task at hand:  go in to the coffee shop, get a coffee something and a ‘to eat’ something.

I can do this.

I can sit.


In a coffee house.  Enjoy the feeling of the quiet.  Of the no demands.  Of the not multi-tasking task of getting as much done as possible,  and get it done quickly.

I made myself be slow.

I made myself continue to sit.

I “made” myself soon turned in to plain old   …..  I continued to sit.




It wasn’t that I had to force myself to enjoy this.  I did enjoy this.  Immensely.   It was that I felt obligated to do other things.  Be to other places.  Accomplish what needed done.

And for a very blissful thirty minutes I experienced life on my terms.   They weren’t harsh.  They weren’t hurried.  They weren’t stressful.  They weren’t lazy.  They weren’t demanding.  The terms were constructed of existing in the joy, of allowing a settled and comfortable presence.

 In the coffee shop.

Coffee shop