There's a Bug in My Coffee

Most of my life is filled with noise. But it’s my birthday today so I wanted to quiet things down.

I left my computer at home.  I took my barre3 class. And then I walked…

No AirPods, no podcasts or music.  I listened to birds sing. I smelled the flowers, literally.  And I contemplated what I would write for my yearly life review. 

I walked around SE Portland, seeing places I’d been years ago.  Bringing up memories of dreams I’d had, who I was 10 years ago, what I thought life would be, what life actually is… you know, all those intrinsic questions about the meaning of life and if yours actually found the meaning.

I stumbled across what looked like a restaurant but as I peered closer, I noticed a coffee menu. Ooh, it’s a bakery. I decided to stop in. I’d continue my reading, journaling, contemplation here.

I usually get a cold brew but it’s my birthday so an oat milk mocha it is.   I usually don’t get a pastry but it’s my birthday so a coffee cake muffin it is.  My mom always made me coffee cake for my birthday so the muffin literally called out to me from behind the bakery case, literally.

The barista made my mocha with a fancy design on top. But there was a dark thing in the corner. I peered closely, ooh, it’s a bug.

I pushed the cup back to her, “there’s a bug in my coffee.”  And then I started apologizing over and over as if it were my fault she had just handed me a drink with a bug in it. That feels normal though, how we apologize for things well out of our control to somehow try and make the other person feel lighter.

And then I thought, “well, there’s a bug in my coffee, on my birthday.  This must be some kind of metaphor.”

*

I sat at the table while they made me a new mocha.

*

Achieving dreams is an interesting thing.  I chased a dream to Portland. It was a good dream. And then it ended. I found another dream in Portland.  But then likewise, it ended. And that cycle continued, the beginning and ending of dreams. 

And I thought, as I could link to my state of the union last year, “oh life comes in seasons. It’s not bigger, better, stronger, faster. It’s summer, fall, winter, spring.”  And I was in the dead cold of winter.

*

I was thinking about what I’d write for this year while I showered yesterday. I don’t think it’s that we save our best thoughts for the shower but simply because life slows down there. We’re not on our phones or computers. There are limited distractions. And our minds leap into space to contemplate life. 

I thought maybe I’d write about finding satisfaction inside of dissatisfaction. 

Like, there’s a bug in my coffee but the rest of it looks good?  Nah, not quite there yet. There’s a bug in my coffee and it ruins the whole drink.  More fitting.

I was thinking of the things that were bringing angst and strife and anxiety in to my life. The dreams that had died. The dreams that had yet to be birthed. But then I started to think of the satisfaction surrounding them. 

The paths I never would have taken. The sites I never would have seen. The people I never would have met.

The things that brought dissatisfaction led me to find things that brought satisfaction. Things that brought new life.  Kind of like that whole winter to spring to summer thing ya know.  Death to life.

There was a bug in my coffee. The coffee was ruined.

But they made me a new coffee. Obviously.  You’d be mad if they didn’t.  But I found my metaphor.  Our dreams aren’t perfect.  There are bugs in them, sometimes… literally. Sometimes an expected bug can derail (a whole cup of coffee) a whole dream.  But regardless…

A new (cup) dream awaits. 

*

It’s been a few years since I lost my ‘dream’ of the nonprofit I served with.  It’s been a little over a year since I lost my ‘dream’ job I chased to Portland.

It still feels a bit odd walking the streets of the place your dream brought you, but the dream is gone.

It’s a bit paralyzing at times. Is this home?  Is this where I’m supposed to be?  Is there where I want to be? 

I don’t know. I think so. Maybe.  I don’t know. 

And so each day is a little step into the unknown and into possibility.  In the last year I returned to London, Romania, and Ukraine.  And visited Prague, Vienna, and Munich.  I went to Nashville and Indiana to see family and friends.  I got super depressed and then un-depressed by the support and love of good community.  Despite running away from basketball, I ended up working camps in Seattle, Chicago, and Salt Lake while watching my own basketball education company grow and grow and grow.  I became a brand ambassador for 50% of beverages in town, literally?, mainly the good bubbles from Topo Chico.  And I figured out how to make a living in the freelance space while simultaneously chasing and waiting on the next dream. 

I’ll go back to my daily cold brew tomorrow. 

But I needed to drink a mocha today. In a new space. With new surroundings.

So I could contemplate life in a different way.

There was a bug in my coffee. But it really didn’t matter. Just a short setback to my next coffee.

There were dreams that ended. And those dreams mattered. But they don’t keep me from the next ones. In fact, they’re more of a launching pad to the next space. 

Things need to die for new things to grow. 

Space needs to be created for something new to flourish. 

Things need to be still so you can hear and smell and taste the surroundings.

I’m in the birth. The rebirth.  It’s as if we never stop dying or living, literally.