Power of the Press

French! The universal language of love. Universal in the sense that we all know it is “the language of love”, yet only 113 million, in a world with over 6 billion, speak it fluently. It is a beautiful language and a spirit of love emanates from their culture. I hope to one day experience that culture (again) first hand, both figuratively and literally. I hope that love will someday consume my heart like a raging wildfire as it has done for the last 15 years, growing and consuming more as time went on. I can only hope for such fire and fury of love in my heart. In the meantime, I try valiantly to extinguish that same fire with each passing day. It is a fight that I face daily and one in which I do not have the tools to suppress this raging inferno, yet I must find a way if I want to walk away with anything left. The tools to grow can often prove to be unexpected and odd. The language of love can speak to us in ways, and at times, that fully catches us off guard.

Through this experience I have felt utter devastation, as well as unconditional love from those who have lifted me back up from my knees. I have learned that God can, and will, knock you to your knees, prostrate, and crying out for help, then pick you back up to walk even taller than you ever have before. As you float drift less in a sea of anguish, despair, shock, and loneliness, the tide ebbs and flows. You crest one wave and feel a sense of being on “top of things”, only to descend the other side and into a valley so low that you feel like you are drowning. Such is the rhythm of life. You are “out there” in this sea of veritable loneliness. Left to navigate that which there is no map..no compass. Those close to you, some old friends, some new, act as lighthouses guiding you through the storm. Showing you the way and providing an ever present luminescence that guides you and gives you something to reach your hands out for. Something to keep you moving forward, enabling you to get your bearings. As you sail across this proverbial sea of change towards what you hope will lead to a new understanding, a new love, a new life, you can only survive the swell and storm around you.

This past weekend was no exception to the journey. Ups and downs, ebbs and flows. I did, however, find a new tool to add to my quiver. Something that gave me peace and comfort. Something that many of us partake in daily and rarely see it as little more than a satisfying way to appease our palate. Coffee! I have not always been a fan; in fact my wife can take credit for introducing me to the “Nectar of the Gods”. Never has the simple act of preparing coffee or consuming it, produced such enlightenment. I was having dinner with someone with whom I thought I knew, someone for whom I have shared many special moments, yet this person is/was a complete stranger. There across the kitchen stood someone so beautiful that her mere presence made the sound of angels trumpets emanate throughout my soul. As we ground the beans and prepared the water, we were just there. Few words, just enveloped in each other’s presence and the moment. There appeared“rightness” about her being there. A calmness that I have not known in a long time. An easiness. I felt as though my spirit was stepping with liveliness unbeknownst to me.

Now it is no secret that I have always been captivated, mesmerized if you will, with beautiful eyes. As a photographer I had always loved stunning eyes. Her eyes are the exception, in the sense that they are deeper than any I have known. I had looked into them before yet never as I did then. In them I could sense a kind of peace and tranquility. Deep and azure; not a cloud between us. She would walk across the hard wood floors with a gait of gentleness that I had not expected. Comforting was her presence, soothing were her eyes. Hair as golden as an early morning sunrise, with a fragrance reminiscent of spring flowers. Who was this woman? Where had she been? My life was in the midst of a “perfect storm” and here lies this person with whom I could be at ease with. We stood within feet of one another, yet miles apart. Smiling and talking as if the seas around me were calm and tranquil. The coffee steeping in the French press. Time drifting on and the ease only deepening. The steam rising from the pot, the aroma wafting the delicious fragrance about the room. I had a sense of peace unbeknownst to me. I had only just recently written in my blog about a peace that was overwhelming, yet this peace was different. I thought I had known no more substantial peace than before this, yet I was wrong.

I looked into her eyes often, always trying to avoid being caught like a bandit stealing a glance. We laughed and smiled and I was even fortunate enough to feel the tranquility of her embrace. The warmth of her arms wrapped around my shoulders, the softness of her skin. The feeling of weightlessness in her arms, like being lifted from the ground. Free of gravity and the weight that pulls us all down. The brevity of the moment was ever present. If only for a moment we could have eternity. Then it was time to press the grounds. Slowly! Too fast and you can ruin a good thing. Patiently is the way forward to an incredible cup of goodness. That warmth I felt in her arms was now what I felt in my hands as we raised our cups to our lips. The aroma so smooth, so soft, assuaging the grief surrounding me. It all flowed, it all fit perfectly. I dare not call it love, but it was all encompassing and all good. Peace, serenity, and a familiarity that was soothing.

In recent weeks I had prayed often for this type of peace and comfort. Little did I know that it could come “from” someone, much less through the shared experience as simple as a cup of coffee. Can God really be in a cup? I speak no French whatsoever, but the language of love was spoken on that morning. The subsequent morning I felt as if I was taken away to a place where I felt no pain. Nirvana, bliss, heaven, call it what you will, but I was there for almost a full day. That morning was surreal. I knew that I would have to step back into reality at some point, but to feel what I felt was something that I will not soon forget. To have felt that with someone for whom I thought I knew was something that will forever be ingrained in my soul. The following morning felt as though I had drank from the cup of life. Filled with peace and refreshed. Still facing the hardships ahead, but lifted higher than I have thus far, by a face that I thought I knew, in the eyes that were now full of grace and kindness. I thought I was dreaming, sat up, and right there by the door was the sign that let me know I hadn’t imagined that day…..her shoes, right where she left them. She was real. The moment, no matter how fleeting, was real. I’ll hold onto that day for many more to come.