Life's a Grind, Ain't It?

At a table in the back, I sit wide-eyed and unbarred. Sunlight streams through the cafe window, and casts a brilliant glow on the buzzing crowd. The sharp deafening sound of the 'machine' as it grinds Columbia's finest soothes the rumble in my caffeinated heart.

Red walls adorned in avant garde art & colorful flyers inspire the uninspired. Like the swinging door beside me, my mind opens and closes to the influx of ideas and people around me. Each interaction brings understanding and growth, each discussion another lesson learned.

My mind a free for all, I am a work in progress with no end date. Like putty or clay, my brain shifts shape continuously. Each squeeze brings on a world of possibilities, a new costume to try on. A lawyer in a pressed suit? I prefer a clean conscious, thank you. An astronaut in outer space? I enjoy food that has not been freeze-dried or squeezed out of a tube far too much! A biased teacher? I prefer to spread truth, not lies.

Hold too loose or too tight, and I will slip through your fingers into the hands of another. Either way- open I stay. The hustle and bustle surrounding my square station makes it nearly impossible to focus. Meiosis? The golgi apparatus? Why learn biology, "the study of life," from a textbook when here it is right before me?

All around me, faces like canvases beckon. A wide eyed college student taps his chucks to the melodies of The Shins, as a mother of four cuts a brownie into equal squares to appease her screaming children. To my right, a man reads a newspaper chronicling the lives of men like him across the world.

To my left, a lovely conversation between a man and a woman. They are on the first date, and nerves run high like charged molecules in the deep blue sky. Her soft tousled hair hangs low beneath her breasts, as a loose blouse hides insecurities and heightens imagination. Her perfume smells of roses, girlie and delicate but protected by its thorns.

The man is casual, cool, and ever so collected. While he attempts to appear attractive without trying, the reality of an empty bottle of pomade and two beers serves as a testament to this fallacy. His shirt is buttoned two buttons too far, as wild curls of hair fight to be let out of their cage. He has a strong jaw, dark features, and is a mans man. If she lets him, he will take care of her the way he takes care of himself. They dare to dabble into politics and tease one another on the opposite's poor taste in music; bright eyed and hopeful for a future of love.

I close my eyes and let the buzzing atmosphere seep through my thirsty pores. This is America: the melting coffee pot of the world. While some are passion fruit iced teas, others are hot chocolates with an extra dallop of whipped cream. Each new recipe extraordinary, every empty cup is one full of possibility. Stay ajar, while learning to alter, adjust, and adapt. Take risks, & go for the drink nobody else wants. Surround yourself in places that celebrate every option on the menu. Don't let yourself get stuck in the daily grind, because life is too sweet to let it pass you by.

And if all else fails, go for broke. Because if you choke, at least you know it's going to be on a undeniably sweet, caramel machiatto.