The Whole Wide World

I had my weekly coffee shift this morning. As much as I don’t love getting out of bed earlier than I would for work, I love my coffee shift. I’ve considered not doing it on community-two day weekends, because I know that I won’t have any visitors, but I always forget to cancel it by the time the two-day weekend rolls around. The truth is I kind of love this once a month morning. There is something so satisfying about being up, alone and knowing that almost the entire station is sleeping.

This morning I almost overslept after a night of racing thoughts that left me awake through the middle hours of the early morning. Somehow, my internal clock knew though and I rolled out of bed with about five minutes to hop over to Southern, where our winter coffee house calls home. I showed up right at 7:30 when my shift begins and to my surprise one of the firefighters was there waiting. I made him a peppermint mocha and he headed off to work leaving me in my own company.

Southern doubles as a 24-hour lounge and a lot of the station after-parties take place there. Being a two-day weekend, I came in to a bit of a mess so I spent the first twenty minutes tidying up. After that, I made myself a cup of coffee, put on some Ludovico Einaudi, one of my favorite modern classical pianists, introduced to me by my Auntie Amanda and her hubby, Tim. Then I sat down with my coffee, book and laptop. I don’t normally bring all those things to coffee with me, but on two-day weekends knowing it will be quiet, I do. There isn’t WiFi in Southern either, I bring my laptop to write as I am often inspired to write when I am reading a good book.

I can’t tell you how special it felt to sit down with Einaudi on, and a coffee and book in hand. I haven’t listened to classical music since I’ve been on ice. Actually that’s not true, I do remember one song popping up in my playlist during the summer when I was walking back from the gym. That also felt magical to me, it was sunny and snowing and everything looked so pretty. Witnessing actual snowfall is not nearly as common as you would think down here.

I digress, the sense of calm that came over me this morning was a feeling I am constantly seeking. Honestly, I am in tears as I write this, I felt so peaceful, so content. As I read my book, I noted how serene and complete I felt. In that moment, the little voice in my head said you are thawing out. It felt like a revelation. I don’t know if it was exhaustion or a pivotal moment in my being, but I burst into full blown tears in the empty coffeehouse. They weren’t tears of sadness or tears of happiness, just tears of release.

I’ve said many times over the past ten months, that it is hard to feel connected, grounded on this frozen continent. I’ve had my moments and I’ve learned that in the darkness of winter that I can tap into that energy by going outside and looking up, but often it’s so overcast and moody out that looking up doesn’t bring me the stars or the moon or auroras. I crave feeling the way I felt this morning. So peaceful. Exhaustion couldn’t have brought that feeling. It had to be the cup of coffee, solitude, a book and classical piano music. Fully present, in the moment. Grateful.