For years I have gone for weekend morning coffees with a good friend. But, last summer they started dating someone who lives out-of-town and so our weekend morning trips to the coffee shop have become much less frequent. So, I’ve been “forced” to go on my own. And, while I still do enjoy company, I’ve discovered I quite like going by myself! In fact, it’s now one of my favourite times of the week (and not always limited to the weekend).
I have never really been a “get out of bed and fling myself into the day” kind of a person. When I do that, I kind of resent it and I am grumpy. I like to ease into the day. To slowly piece myself carefully together, reassembling the parts that have dissolved and separated during the unconsciousness of sleep. Constructing myself each day to be who I want to be in the world.
Morning trips to the coffee shop are the perfect way to do that. There is enough bustle and other people to make me feel somewhat part of the world. To offset the emptiness of the apartment where loneliness can lurk, ready to spring on me in the morning like an unwanted house guest. But, the other coffee shop people do their own thing leaving me to do whatever I need to do in order to set my day on the right track.
I often journal, I read the news on my iPad, browsing around to my heart’s content, and I read e-mails and Facebook. Sometimes I update my status. Sometimes I read a book. I text morning hugs to friends and I check in with my sister.
And then, caffeinated and reconstructed, I head out into the world to do what needs to be done that day.