Seattle, Washington, United States
For those who love coffee, poetry, art, or stories - stay. Have a cup with us.

Monday, April 23, 2012

well. . .

I was incredibly close.

Thursday was going to mark the beginning of my "loyal blogging phase," where I actually blogged TWICE a week...EVERY WEEK. That didn't happen, because Thursday marked the beginning of quite the adventure.

I had an emergency doctor's appoitment to address some very acute pain in my lower back. Turns out I had a wild, out of control infection. So, with high blood pressure and a fever like a roller coaster, I headed into general surgery on Friday, which made blogging on Sunday rather difficult, and is still doing a number on me now.

So there you have it.

I'm not entirely sure as to how to turn this little experience into a warm and fuzzy morality lesson or interesting food for thought. There's probably some of the good ol' "don't get complacent, because life will slap you in the face" or even the lovely "everything happens for a reason!," but, I mean, aren't those all a little...well...dramatic? Histrionic? Unnecessary?

Suffice it to say, I find the whole experience rather funny. One of the things I'm learning about Life is that, when the coffee is at its strongest, the only thing to do is throw back your head and have a good chuckle about it.

Here's to surgery and blogging hiatuses (is that a word?) that seem to never, ever, ever end!

Fingers crossed I'll write to all of you on Thursday (don't jinx it by hoping).


Sunday, April 8, 2012

sunday sip: coming into being

I don't know what the weather is like in your part of the world, but here in Western Washington, Spring has finally arrived. It is miraculous to me that, in a few short days, the flowers bloom brightly, the animals venture out, even the disgusting little baby spiders are hatched.

All in just a few days.

Today is Easter, of course. And whether you are a Christian or an atheist, I think the day bespeaks a similar theme: life. There is life, both in present and in hiding, all about us. Just a week ago, the entire natural world held its breath, safe within its buds and webs and little caves. But, like potential energy exploding forth into heat or movement, the world does not stay stagnant. Life is insistent and invasive.

I suppose we are, as well.

Join me for a cup.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

off electricity hunting

I have had a really hard time blogging on time lately, and for that - I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want to blog, just that I haven't had time. So forgive me. Or don't. If you don't there are a host of other blogs that you might enjoy all over the internet. I promise there are even some coffee-themed blogs.

So, I suppose it's also fair to say that, besides time, I've been having trouble writing posts. This blog wasn't really started with any clear objective in mind a few years (years!) ago when I sat down to write. It sprung forthfrom a serious caffeine addiction and a belief that life - regardless of what Ernest Hemingway and my cynical inner-nag might think - is full of passion to be unearthed, and that the act of unearthing these gems is what makes life meaningful.

But, somewhere along the way, I think I might have lost that. Not the caffeine addiction, no; that is going strong. But the passion is somehow dulled. It's there, making up the sparkling dust that settles in my mind, but - perhaps - I have changed. Maybe my bad eyesight has affected by insight. Maybe I am just very tired.

I read an interesting article the other day in Poets & Writers. The author, whose name I cannot remember, wrote a long-sort-of/short-sort-of memoir-like-story about becoming a father for the first time. In the article (for lack of a better word) he tells the fascinating story of a crippling anxiety that overtook him just before his son was born. It was not the fear of teaching the right values or getting up quickly enough at 3 AM, but, rather, the worry that his son would not be given the right words.

I understand. The sunshine, for examble, is not bright, but dazzling; the graffiti on the city walls is not vandalism, but ventriloquism. There are always alternate ways of seeing the world. I have always believed this, and I do still. I always will.

But, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, holding the emerald paradigm is somewhat difficult. It necessitates that we make the decision to keep the glasses on, to close our eyes tightly if they should slip off our noses and reveal the city to be shockingly ugly.

The potrait of an idealist? Self-delusion.

So, as I write this, coffee by my side, I wonder what makes it strong in the first place. I wonder if I still know, ever knew, forgot somewhere. 

At the end of every post I tell you to keep your passions electric. It just may be possible that I don't keep my own advice. Maybe - just maybe - I have to go electricity hunting. And maybe - just maybe - I'll find where that strength in coffee comes from. And maybe - just maybe - I already know, and just can't remember. As Plato put it:

We do not learn, and what we call learning is only a process of recollection.

I hope you'll stick around. In fact, I have faith that you will.

After all, the best miracles are very, very small.

May your coffee be strong, your passions electric, and your laughter easy.