Winter Survival Rituals
Periodically, I stop off at the Jackson Coffee Company. It’s one of my Winter Survival Rituals.
There’s something about the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and pastries, whirring machines and cinnamon decor that gives the illusion of refuge from the snow.
I go there not just to hedge off ungodly temperatures, but to meet up with like-minded friends in the community. And occasionally, I go there to write. (I know that’s stereotypical, hence this infamous Family Guy clip. But I can live with that.)
But yesterday, while waiting in line for my Cup of Happiness (aka Chai) I noticed the barista was eyeing me.
Eyeing me long enough that I started to wonder if maybe I was rocking dry-erase marker streaks on my shirt or face (again).
(I’m a regular fashion casualty by the end of my day working with urban teens.)
But when I handed over my debit card, the barista came clean.
“I knew I knew you.” She said, reading the name off of the card.
Years ago, she reminded me, she had dated Markus, one of two brothers I’m friends with from the metal band, Hollow Drive.
(No, I’m not a closet metal fan. Just a fan of my friendship with these two…and closet-liking the new angel-inspired designs on their most recent CDs.)
It clicked immediately. Jussie.
“You know what else is weird?” Barista Jussie continued. “We have another mutual friend in Grand Rapids.”
“Really?” My mind quickly spun through the list of people most likely to know her.
“Yeah, I know him only as Rush.”
Of course. Jeremy Rush. A college friend. Founder of Beardcore and general champion of bizarreness.
“Yeah, Rush figured it out because he noticed you and Tori (a former student who knows Jussie) were mutual friends on Facebook.”
I noticed then that such a simple, off-the-cuff conversation had us both smiling. Not the I’m-your-barista-so-I-have-to-be-nice-to-my-customers sort of smiling. But the opening kind of smiles that happen when you find commonality with another person.
I walked upstairs, to my winter haven, warmed from the winter in a different way.
I’ve long been convinced that those unknown links between us are the finger prints of our Maker, who shaped us to be people whose lives play out in connection with those around us.