Creative Juices are Flowing

The new year brought old friends back to Coaching Corner this morning. This informal group shares thoughts, ideas, and successes (or failures) with a life coach - continually building our intentions, goals, being challenged with action plans along with how to avoid inevitable road blocks. It is a wonderful diving platform for getting the creative juices up and circulating in a supportive environment.

At the end of each class we choose a goal for the week – only one as many of us have other intentions, families, obligations. I chose to visit a coffee shop in which to write and nestle with my coffee and a treat – Bloom was my destination.

Bloom Coffee Roasters opened in July 2016 and is located in Old Town, Lansing, an artsy community. Free parking along the street was a plus in today’s pay per minute meters. Walking into the building on this windy, snowy day, I was embraced by the aroma of roasted coffee beans, and welcomed by the friendly manager and her fellow barista. My first impression was that Bloom appeared to be a pleasant coffee shop with cozy places to sit, talk, reflect and write.

The manager assisted me in ordering the kind of coffee I liked to drink, which was a bold brew – she chose for me Guatemala and her barista prepared my pour-over drink set in an attractive rugged cup and saucer. As for a treat, with her recommendation, I decided on a sweet Kouign Amann, a crispy, slightly salty and sweet croissantly delicate wonder.

I sat listening to conversations in the background while I sipped at the Guatemalan coffee, which was smooth and had a nice coffee taste which lingered perfectly in my mouth. The Kouign Amann was as described – delicious and slightly decadent.

Bloom’s simple design includes a few built in angles for wood shelves, woodsy barn wood plaques on the white walls with pictures hanging from wire. Music is piped in on wall speakers - I’m not versed in the language of music but would describe it as contemporary folk, relaxing alternative, a bit international – overall very pleasant, conducive to writing or conversation, and comfortable. 

Old fashioned lighting hangs from the ceiling with exposed pipe giving the building a funky yet upbeat appearance. A large black chalkboard, framed in wood, hangs on the wall with numerous selections of drinks in which to choose. The simple white chalk on the board is a clean and organized look for this charming coffee shop.

Observations with my Coffee

I am enjoying a "quiet" morning at a coffeehouse - a 25 mile ride down a country road from my home. Uptown Coffee in Howell is comfy, relatable, relaxing, with just enough funky to send me 
back to my own coffeehouse days.

Prime spots for computer users is a table where your back is up against a wall, affording a bit of privacy. I have my favorites here as there are plenty of seats. I have discovered that privacy is not my goal as I find that a good cup of a hot beverage, the music, and atmosphere, tunes out gossip and idle chitchat.

As I sit, write, and slurp coffee, conversations naturally drift around the room. Today, people watching is on my radar, with hopes to escape my block in writing. Typical of coffeehouses - people talk about everything, punctuating comments with a soft laugh, a loud hoot, even an occasional slap of delight on a table. 

A young man with earphones sits at a small table making clacking key noises on his computer. Strangely, a huge box of crayons and felt pens sit by his monitor but there are no children present with him. A lady wrapped in a lightweight coat enters and points her finger at two women who have been visiting on a small couch. Obviously, they know each other as exclamations of happiness are blurted. Two women, a little older than me, have been sitting on a bench overlooking the road having an apparent serious "coffee chat", one scowls every so often - keeping their intimate and intense exchange low and confidential.

Two "businessmen" are sitting at the raised counter facing the main street … robustly and openly deep in face-to-face conversation about work issues. The men are very expressive and intent, using hand gestures to accentuate their points.

A woman with young children came by to purchase a coffee to go while her youngest screamed, tossing herself on the floor. The patient mom, coffee in hand, coos as she picks up the child -- the noise blended in with the background music and became a part of the coffee house experience.

A large contingent of middle or high schoolers arrived and claimed a bench by the window recently vacated by the scowling women. They sit with youthful legs curled under one another, sipped on fancy concoctions, exchanging heart-to-heart excitedly with each other. It seems that particular seating seems to attract the younger group so I never sit there to allow them clear access.

The range of music gently puts me in a trance - John Denver, in particular, and brings back memories of being named "JD" by my girlfriend's aunt and uncle (visualize a shag, big glasses, squarish face), which leads me down a melancholic path … but a clattering noise as the barista dropped silverware on the wood flooring brought me back to the present. New patrons are lining up and being greeted with pleasantries. I find the staff at Uptown Coffee welcoming and prepare our orders quickly and perfectly. 

I want to stay seated all day, write and read and drink and be cushioned with the ambiance and people. It is that kind of place.

The North County Trail

You know how the new year comes around encouraging and sometimes screaming at you to plan a challenge. So, you surround yourself with books, maps, papers and come up with lofty goals, at times fueled by the newness of the year. My husband and I did just that in January 2015. Ambitious to be sure. Attainable - we thought. Our decision was to walk portions of Michigan's North Country Trail.

We went to outdoor symposiums plying backpackers with questions on these trails: what kind of pack, supplies, where to begin. We bought books from authors who walked the trail and wrote about their excursions...absorbing every word as gospel. Our starting point would be above Ohio, walking weekends and traveling up through our beautiful state.

But life happens. In April, I developed a horrible cough, fever, and eventually "blew" my ribs out of place, the pain forcing me to the floor at work. Forget about training, I could not walk a corridor with comfort - let alone try trail walking. A series of tests ensued because of lingering issues and I was given a slew of surprising diagnoses gave a tremendous blow to my normally active and positive attitude.

So, I had a decision. Do I fold up and sink in despair or round up my resources and fight. I chose life and began slow walking, then faster. But, we were realistic and realized the North Country Trail was unobtainable, and went through the grief of limitations.

In September, I began the walking, spinning, elliptical challenge of a previous blog post. Then took two of our girls "home" to Marquette, Michigan for an active weekend of walking on trails. In the midst of this hard, for me, weekend, we discovered a trail - The North Country Trail - and commenced to spend a few hours navigating rocks, roots, hills, obstacles. Then, a day later, we were walking deeply into the forest to a waterfall, and scooted down to these beautiful falls, noticing another sign: the North Country Trail. We had successfully maneuvered two NCT walks in one weekend. A great change occurred in my heart. I would and could be active and beat these inflictions.

A few weeks after our return home, a daughter, my husband and I competed in a 5K run/walk. Our daughter ran, beating her time and placing nicely in her age category. We pushed hard in the walk and placed pleasantly in our own age categories. It was life-changing in the midst of my medical turmoil.

Each week that passes and I reach my weekly walk goals, I believe, I am in better health. My sports medicine doctor heard my story in October and confirmed that I could reach health with a positive attitude and continued exercise, and lots of liquid.

Never curl up in despair - think of something, anything, you can try to get you through tough moments in life's road. You are worth it. Oh, and remember to smile, even as you trip over a branch in your path.

 

Sweet, Sweetwaters

The pull of coffee houses and book stores is so strong - as if embedded in my very soul. Some of my best times are spent sitting in a chair, sipping a good and bold cup of black (gave up cream years ago, sigh) coffee from a mug with a large smooth handle.

Today it is Sweetwaters in Ann Arbor where our car delivered us - and am drinking Midnight Blend in a white ceramic mug. The fireplace (currently not lit due to the beautiful weather today) is at my left and my husband has claimed seat, also to my left. Life is good and comfortable.

This community and coffee shop are vastly different from Howell's Uptown Coffee in that the room is larger with ducts, conduits, and pipes adorning the ceiling compared to Uptown's tall ceilings with gorgeous adornments. Ann Arbor is a college town and very evident through the discussions and activities around me. Conversations about medical school, classes, professors and life in Ann Arbor are sprinkled in the various corners of the room. The clatter of the coffee paraphernalia seeps through the air with an occasional whiff of delicious espresso in my nose. Comfortable chairs are scattered throughout, all with tables next to them and coffee tables in front for placing your "gear".

The artisans have set up their kiosks in the court area displaying an unique variety of home created wares. We wandered through earlier and had our creative sides anointed. My husband and I claimed "we can make that", knowing we really can't, but it is fun to be stretched in the artisan way.

I love it here. This is a refuge to our every day occasionally mundane lives - this, for us, is a place of refreshment and renewal.

Doesn't this look inviting? This is in a bookstore in the old Traverse City State Hospital (previously the Insane Asylum), now called The Village at Grand Traverse Commons. Such a cozy place to curl up with a coffee mug and a book.

Thankful after a Fire

Beautiful November day - this has been a long and warmish autumn in Michigan, at least in most of the state. Weather so luscious, you can take your jacket off, walk through town, kick up the brittle, crunchy leaves, and feel thankful. Isn't that what this month is, in particular, all about? Being appreciative of what we have?

I am thinking back to October of 2008. A disturbing phone call in the morning from our oldest daughter in Kalamazoo. There was a fire, she got out, she lost everything, her cat is dead. Apparently, a careless smoker tossed a butt into the dry leaves on his balcony - the apartment next to our daughter's place. Jessica was startled awake by the deep and acrid smell of smoke, disoriented, she grabbed her purse and ran down the stairs as the flames poured out of the rooms. She had NO time to consider taking other items as it was a life and death race to the safety of outdoors.

My husband and I had a frantic one and a half drive to Kalamazoo not knowing much except that our daughter was in psychic, mental and spiritual pain. Her body was spared.

The Red Cross trucks covered the parking lot as we ran into the office to grab our Jessica and hold her. The story above spilled out of her and with deep despair she told us her cat had died - many did in the fire as they hid in various "safe" locations, then the floors collapsed.

We helped ourselves to cups of coffee provided by the Red Cross and sat down with our daughter as a volunteer stood before us and said they found a very very large cat - it was crated in the back room. It was Pol, Jessica's cat. God blessed our daughter in discovering that her precious cat was alive: singed brows and very smokey, but alive and demanding to know what happened and wanting her "mom" to rescue her from the trauma.

Pol was found safe but charred

Jessica lost everything she owned but had her life! A backstory is that her mother died when Jessica was an infant and we worked to create a scrapbook filled with Belinda's friend's stories and remembrances of her, pictures of her, little pieces of memorabilia. It was gone, burned to a crisp. But, Jessica had her life!

Thinking how life would have changed for the entire family, my chest is constricting into spasms. My eyes perk with tears, and I thank God. Every moment is precious - life is precarious and filled with not only pain but great joy. Ours is going to be joy as this Thanksgiving, we are thankful, in particular, to our eldest, sweet and precious daughter, Jessica.

A Later Life Passion

I am 3 of 7. My parents had seven children and were obviously very busy earning money to raise us to adulthood. Dad worked all his life, but was also saddled with heart disease - after he lost his most lucrative job following open heart surgery, he picked himself up and became a businessman. Still working hard all hours of the morning, afternoon and evening.

I don't know when he discovered photography, but do know I was a late teen by then. Dad purchased a camera and gear and began frequenting a local camera shop on the search for good magazines and talk about taking pictures.
  

My sister was recalling a certain instance where my father insisted on taking her picture on the porch of our grandparent's home on Baraga Avenue in Marquette, Michigan, the day after his father died. She was, of course, asking him not to as she had been crying. But he told her something like - family and a record of family is very important and this picture would be part of her history.

Anyone was fair game for his picture taking and his interest grew - so he began collecting a variety of lenses to expand the depth of his photography. Family was of utmost importance to dad...a continuity through photographs, essential. Sadly, many of those he took have disappeared, some destroyed by basement floods, others went poof.

I think of all my nephews and nieces - the ones who knew dad and the ones who were born after his early death. Many of these young people have missed his strength, humor, the way he liked to get you to laugh, his walk. Rumor has it that dad spent a couple years of his early life on a boat (ship), as we were from a sailing family, and never lost his special way of walking - sauntering side to side like balancing on moving water.

I have made a decision to include my own photos in this blog. Some are okay - none professional looking - yet. You see, two of my own children are interested in photography, one earning an award for a stunning photo taken in Japan. She has promised to help me learn to take pictures and recently spent time patiently showing me what all I can do with my camera. I've been encouraged to take photography classes and am eager to begin - and hope to make dad proud.

Am I Unconventional, or "Normal"

How about thinking backwards for a little while? Thus, the Z-centric heading. Having a period of blogger-block, so thought - hey, change up my focus to include a reverse alphabet series of posts.

For the Scrabble player, these easy four letter words, beginning with that oh so difficult "Z" are ones to memorize - Zeal, Zest and Zany. You never know when you might need the word, or rather in Scrabble, you will need one of these gems, eventually.

The meanings are similar, can describe a lot of people, and speaks to my spirit. I have experienced wonderful zeal (great energy and enthusiasm for a cause or aim). My husband and I were privileged to adopt two older children from Russia in 1997. What zeal we had, even taking Russian language classes at the university, in anticipation of the adoption. Daily, I would sit on the front porch for three hours at a time studying and speaking Russian, learning Cyrillic seemed easy when it was preceded by this spectacular zeal. Our purpose was to give the kids a family with our other two children, and hopefully secure a positive experience for them.

Then the elusive zest (great enthusiasm and energy)! Oh to regain the energy portion of this word, but occasionally it rears its blessed head and adrenaline-loads my body. As an empty-nester running a little low on zest, I had a dream!!!to be a photographer, a photoblogger to be concise. What a kick of enthusiasm. I searched classes and signed up for photography ONE-O-ONE at college - senior rate to boot! Knowing virtually zero about this craft and talent, my insecurities were present on the first day of class. The words were foreign, the instructor younger than me. Oh my! But, I have to say I did not feel old in the rows with these young kids, but rather felt zest's enthusiasm and energy. I supplemented  this first class with an evening photography class at a nature center. I opened my heart to learning and knew that, if I didn't know something one week, exposure will ensure a better grasp, and am loving my photo assignments.

Which brings me to crazy zany (amusingly unconventional or unusual). Back to the previous topic, I did not want to take the typical pictures. I wanted to be creative, adventurous and unconventional to submit unusual photos for grading and critiquing. I crawled on the ground to get nature pictures, climbed play structures with my head poking through a tight spiral bar in order to click zany pictures of my mother's dolls. Submitting these each week has been so much fun. I'm hoping to focus on the theme of zany as I progress in my photography.