corner booth

Surely you wonder, ‘Where are these coffeehouse fantasy stories we’ve heard tell of?’ I’ve been pondering that myself. Yearning for these stories and the folk in them.

 

Would you saunter with me down a side path for a moment? I promise to find the way back.

 

I don’t mean to play the older and wiser card, because I’m not (except perhaps the older part, as my bald pate attests). It’s just that, as I keep this inn and brush past so many lives in this grand hall, I’ve lent an ear to many from behind this bar. They share with me what they often conceal from others. Their stories. So, may I share something with you? For I’ve found a shocking phenomenon.

The Haven is a place of merriment above all else. But there are down-and-outers too, and it’s them that snag my heart. If that’s not you, good on ya. But it was, or will be, at some season.

 

So here goes, for there seem to be more downcast folk in here than ever.

 

Some claim a corner booth and sit alone in deep thought, quiet as a candle. Not for everyone, but I get it. I’ve done that on breaks. The world seems a little smaller and kinder from there. Coffee tastes a little richer too.

 

Some come in with their clan and push tables together mid-room, feasting raucously.

 

Others mill about with a drink in hand, never taking a seat, meeting as many new faces as they can.

 

You already know folk come in such variety. But I wonder if you know their commonality? What so many say when they broach the bar, after a few visits here, when they’ve come to trust me.

 

Different as they are, they speak of similar pasts. Of roaming the realm, adventurous, eager, poised, passionate. Of seeing much and hoping for much. They tell me of laying plans and journeying to other lands, envisioning futures rife with abundance, feeling their momentum would never end.

Until life takes some turns. Losses mount. Some speak of barely hanging on at times.

 

Some put hand to plow, to no avail. Were passed over for something deserved. Even faithful ones have told me of making sacrifices to share their passion for the good of all, only to be thwarted. Some suffer from just plain old bad luck.

 

Anything called to mind from your life? I hope it’s grand, but somewhere you’ve struggled, you’ve known failure, if you’ve trod this realm any length at all.

 

Now, two things I wish to impart, for much of our suffering is needless.

 

Greatest shame I see is all these folk confiding in me, one by one, each believing they’re alone. That no one else has faced it.

 

Hear me now. You are special, because of the One who made you. Your problems are not. I say it bluntly not to make you bristle, but to make you see. In your mind, other folk are richer, happier in their trade, healthier, and more well-liked.

 

Falsehoods. Others are more like you than you guess, fighting the same battles. Instead of suffering alone and falling for lies, why not share in each other’s victories? Why not pour compassion on your brethren instead of pitying yourself?

Second point. Be seated, if you’re not already, for this is the phenomenon. Now, my aim’s not to belittle anyone’s struggles, but validate them. They’re quite real in our fallen realm. But what astonishes me is this ~ there is no connection between a person’s lot in life and their joy. None.

 

’Tis true! I’ve known some with great riches, a full family, flourishing trades, of prominent reputation and staunch physical prowess . . . who whine miserably at each encounter. Who drive me through the swing doors to the back of the kitchen when I see them coming. While others in poor health, with lost loved ones, out of work, known hunger, and, well, some who’ve suffered unspeakable tragedies. Who not only press on, but lead such inspiring lives it shames me for ever feeling deprived. I know not how they do it, nor how this can be. But it stops me cold, and it rights my heart, and so must I share this bar keeper’s observation.

Nay, I cannot explain it, but I have learned from it. The heart is not inclined to cling to truth or give praise. It seeks out lies and wants to compare and complain. Counting blessings does not come naturally, but they’re there for those who wish to see.

 

My words are not meant to scold, but bear witness that joy knows no bounds and is waiting for you. If I sound preachy, that’s just ol’ Serl reminiscing about better folk than I who ministered to my feeble heart.

 

All right, one last thing I’ve heard more than once from patrons’ epiphanies. Remember back at the beginning, that bit about not knowing whether the answers you sought were here or not? Well . . . the answers are here. In time, folk oft come to realize they missed them because they came in here with the wrong questions. Plotting their own quests. Seeking their own treasure. Writing their own stories, instead of bowing low and taking part in the Grand Story.

We’re truly blessed, brothers & sisters. Always have been. You might not always feel it. It may take time to recover from your ordeal and find your way back. But however near or far you think you are, there is a well of living hope so vast it is always within reach. Dwell on your place in the Grand Story, and know it’s true.

 

Speaking of stories, I have a promise to keep, haven’t I? The coffeehouse stories are not here–yet. But there’s been a chap in a corner booth in here sometimes. Drinks a few mugs of coffee and scribbles in his book. I’ve asked what he’s working on, and he told me just what I’ve told you. Said he takes inspiration from this place. I asked if I could read it, and he said yes. I asked when, and he said he doesn’t know.

 

I’ll keep after him, and I’ll keep you posted, any who are interested.

 

Meanwhile, I really am close to being able to receive renderings, brew recipes, words of life, and of course beans of wisdom from you travelers, if you’d be so kind as to send them in. Make ready, and I’ll put the call out for those as soon as I may. A month or two should do, methinks. Much as I’ve said about sharing, the least I can do is make a venue for it. I’ll not let you down. Much pleased I am that you stopped in, and most honored to be your host.

 

Many Mugs & Merry Travels,

 

~ Serl

Update ~ April 6, 2024

 

Patrons of the Haven, I am pleased to announce the fulfillment of my undertaking to bring in your contributions. Do you ever set out on a quest, exploring various paths and weighing options, only to find yourself back at square one? For there, staring you in the face and waiting patiently, is the best solution–so unassuming you overlooked it. Well, that’s how this went.

 

Now we celebrate, for the messenger pigeon shortage is over. Dig deep into the hidden pockets of your cloaks and fish out your miniature scrolls and whatever you may have stashed. Send your renderings, brew recipes, beans of wisdom, and words of life to [email protected] and yours might be posted on the blog. Your send-ins will be displayed in four separate areas there for all of our edification or entertainment or, if you’re very good, both.