Hello Reader,
How are you? I am really good. I have found a little bit of a new flow here in writing for you and it feels good. Thank you for all the emails and for the early subscribers that helped this space launch. Feel free to leave those comments below and share your wisdom with our community, too. I do a lot of my writing at a sweet little coffeeshop which I adore. I nibble on my avocado toast clicking away on my laptop and am becoming a bit of a Cliff Clavin. I like it. I like being a part of something, which is why and how The Golden Thread was born, too. A way to make your email box a little warmer. If you click on paid subscription it is $0.87 a post (less for a yearly subscription), thanks for the support + sharing this place of inspiration with your people. I love it!
Back to my coffeeshop revelation for this very November Monday morning. I have been coming here weekly for about two and half months now, and there is one barista that always makes the perfect cup. When I took a hiatus from coffee, he walked me towards the chai, the herbal infusions, the simple pace of caring no matter what the day or the order.
This past weekend a dear friend of mine got married and it was so beautiful it lit everyone’s hearts ablaze. I talked to the chauffeur and the caterer and the band and they all said the same thing: I wish them so much joy. They are the nicest people. And they are. I won’t name names because she is part of our community (I’m waving at you, friend).
Let me talk to you about the band for a minute (I know, we’ll get back to the barista, there is a thread here). There was an eight piece band, in a beautifully lit barn in the the midst of golden hills that is the end of autumn in Pennsylvania. I don’t know about you, but I am a dancer. I don’t need anything but music to get me going. The band was so much fun I danced with people I knew, people I didn’t, sang with the saxophone player and the whole impetus was joy. There was joy in the union, and I think that joy rippled through the barn to not only loving and supportive friends, but humans that are ready to celebrate, to dance, to love up life. I know that is what kept me grooving. The human spirit is so beautiful; there is so much to celebrate and there is nothing like the hopeful promise of a chosen dedication to Love to remind us to dance more, connect more, love more.
I’ve decided to keep listening to this old favorite that the band played, which I danced with my son to the day after the wedding. He was groovin’ too. I’ve decided to carry the music onward, which is why when I walked into the coffeeshop this morning, I said:
“Hello!”
“Hey,” the barista answered warmly. “How are you?”
“So good,” I switch my voice a little quieter and say. “May I ask your name? I feel weird not knowing it. I’m Kate.”
He smiles and answers, “Ash. Nice to meet you, Kate.”
“And listen,” I rush, “there are so many of us, and only one of you I have no expectation of you remembering my name, but I’d like to use yours.”
A clear sign of relief plays across his face as he smiles. Then he leans toward me and says, “I remember people’s drinks. I can look at a ticket and know if it is right or wrong, or who it’s for by the drink. That’s what I remember.”
“Cool,” I say and hold back telling him how sweet it is to know how much he cares.
Little things add up. The energy in why you share and what you do and who you love, was evident at the wedding, and is also in my avocado toast. We can lose ourselves to doubt or we can nourish ourselves in love.
Let’s bring the music + dance. Happy Monday,
Kate
P.S.
Do you journal? Do you write little vignettes of your day? Do you share them?
I love this, Kate! There are so many ways - both big and small - that we can find joy and connection with others. You so beautifully painted this picture!
I just love knowing you're on the planet Kate. xoxoxoxo <3