Sometimes it feels like justice will never come. The world spins faster and faster still, and more and more we feel the wind at our backs as it pushes on, leaving us in the dust. What can we hold on to? What will ground us and hold us tight as we ride this ride?
These days, I'm holding on to the handle of a mug with white knuckles. Every morning, I become all that is good in this world as I measure out my 55 grams and 900 mls. I grind, it blooms, and it's as if the sun comes up just to see what's cooking. Golden coffee drips through like sand through an hourglass. Remember, you are here, you are now, you can do it.
Breath in the air, kiss the ones you love, pet the dog, take a sip. That's sweet justice baby.