I sit sipping cocoa in a Seattle coffee shop and let the world slow down. It is a busy shop but not frantic, filled with locals in their regular weekend rhythms, not a selfie-seeking tourist in sight. I only know to be there because they called my daughter in for work, so I am an interloper with a free pass for the morning. I am honored.
It is cold outside. I could be exploring but am dizzy from the past few months of life and revel in the opportunity to sit still in the warmth of someone else’s community with an interesting book and a hot chocolate. I read for hours and suspect I could go all day.
I sit alone. And not. There are other solo customers, most with laptops, and one with an old-fashioned page-turning book like me. Parents occasionally bring their toddlers in and gather in the play area in the back. A few couples are there for conversation. It is a good crew, and I am proud of us. They are mine if only for the morning.
The hours float by like an ever-present Seattle rain cloud, and the time comes for me to step back on the moving sidewalk of life. I don’t mind. I have work to do. But I cherish this extraordinary morning.
I like many things about the fast-paced life. It is the life for me. But I love how from time to time the adventurous pace leads me to quiet places like this lovely Seattle coffee shop.