If we had coffee…

sweet morning liquid-of-life

A little while ago I stumbled upon this blog post.

It resonated with me because it’s precisely how blog reading feels/is to me. I read blogs in the morning with my coffee *before* the zaniness of my day begins.

I also liked the concept because my favorite blogs to *read* are written in that manner.

As if we were just two friends getting together and chatting over coffee.

Ive got lots rolling around in my cranium today and really–if I could–I might not blog at all.

Id just invite you over for a cup.

Id share Im feeling sad & make you listen to a story.

Id tell you how, when I was a trainer, I had a multimillionaire client who led a fear based life. He was terribly frugal because he feared he’d never have an idea as great as his first. He worried if he lost his wealth he’d never re-create it. Im not that man. When people appropriate my ideas I think AWESOME. MUST HAVE BEEN A GOOD ONE! I HAVE MORE! but then Id reveal how seeing “friends” appropriate my ideas has made me sad.

Phil Spector specs.

Then Id grow excited and share how I saw something which increased my faith in humanity & resilience.

Id tell you I was feeling the sad of the above when I saw a woman walking her dog. More aptly put she was helping her dog to walk.

Meet Barkly!

I asked if she’d share the dog’s story & she told me this: Barkly has a disease like Multiple Sclerosis and about six months to live. Right now he’s pain-free so we walk daily. I was amazed by the dog’s joy (I was repeatedly face-licked) & resiliency (the cart was new) *and* by his human’s capacity for kindness. The interaction made me grateful Id slowed, stopped and asked.

Id sit for a moment, absentmindedly twirl my hair and shout: OH! I forgot to tell you…

Recently Id noticed the Tornado’s hair looked nice yet different. I complimented her (to my delight she said THANK YOU!) and asked: Did you cut some bangs?! True to age seven she initially denied the hair cutting. True to being a misfit-mama I laughed & told her Id been 7 once, it was fine, & next time Id happily bring her to a salon. Id tell you about our mother/daughter group at school & how it’s a reminder things are *so* different now than when I was 7 and yet simultaneously entirely the same.

when I was young I did this too!

Id ask how things were with your family & Id share how the longer Im married the more Im realizing it’s just like fitness.

Id talk about weight-loss maintenance & say how, for me, it’s just recommitting to healthy living each morning no matter how the prior day went.  I say Ive realized marriage is the same.  Id yammer about how no one talks candidly about the time and work required *daily* to maintain a healthy union.  How (like weight-loss maintaining) marriage maintenance isnt “sexy” so few people are honest about the effort required.   Id mumble about blogging this, but trail off  knowing Id likely not.

Sadly, at this point our cups would be empty and life would beg to intrude on our time.

We’d separate promising it wouldnt be as long between our coffee talks—yet both of us knowing, as promises were made, it probably would be.

 If we could have a slice of silence, coffee and over-share today—what would you tell me?

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