A Toast to the Winter Solstice

Today is the Winter Solstice. The solstice brings the fewest hours of daylight and the longest, darkest night of the year. Winter has officially begun. For many of us, the extra darkness and barren cold create a season of poor mental health. But what if we could use this time to improve well-being instead? What if we could harness the darkness and reignite our inner light?

The word solstice combines the Latin words sol or “sun” and sistere or “to stand still,” making “sun stands still” the literal definition of this day. It is almost as if the Sun is taking a break. The Sun understands that we all need a season of rest and reflection. The Winter Solstice represents a much-needed pause. This day creates space for my favorite things: cozy candlelit cocooning and contemplation.

Today I also celebrate thirty-three consecutive days of practicing meditation using an app called InsightTimer. For years I have heard people speak about the benefits of mediation, but I have never managed to get into a consistent rhythm - until now. I wish I could say some major transformation has occured after 33 days, but that has not been the case. Not yet, anyway. People say it takes roughly 60-90 days before the magic begins.

What I have noticed, though, is a tiny shift in the regulation of my overworked nervous system. Breathing deeply, even if only for ten minutes a day, really does help with my anxiety and constant anticipatory dread. Sinking below the surface creates space to reconnect with my true self. The goal of meditation is not to have zero thoughts. The goal is to quietly listen to the parts of myself that I have been programmed to bury and ignore for decades. Using meditation as a tool to slow down feels like a rebellious and revolutionary act while living in a society that values constant productivity and distraction.

As the New Year approaches, I refuse to make resolutions to better myself. What I am willing to do, however, is set up a daily meditation practice intended to help rediscover myself. Ideally, I will report back here with a monthly meditation update. Thirty-three consecutive days is a big deal. I want to keep the ball rolling.

As a toast to the Winter Solstice, I will spend the day in cozy matching Christmas PJs with my dog, Teddy. I will light all of the candles, draw a hot bath, bundle up for a brisk walk, savor a simmering pot of soup, brew endless cups of tea, take a nap, and of course, meditate. I will follow the Sun's lead and take a gentle break to reignite my inner light.

Progress.

A Love Letter to Baristas

If you read my last post, you know that I helped open a franchise-owned chain coffee shop this past week. Luckily, prior barista experience helped quell my nerves. I thought I knew what to expect because I also helped open a smaller, locally owned coffee shop in 2016. However, I quickly learned how much busier and more chaotic these larger chain coffee shops are. It was madness.

In my opinion, baristaing is one of the most intense entry-level jobs in existence. We rise from our warm, cozy beds around 4am and arrive to work by 5am. Once the coffee shop opens, it is a literal sprint until the end of the shift. There is no time to breathe or to regulate the nervous system. There is only time for efficiency and vibrancy. Yesterday at 6:15am we had a line of ten customers inside and eight cars outside waiting in the drive thru. Working folks are desperate for their daily hit of caffeine. Before I had time to sip my own cup of joe, there was a stack of fifteen drink orders.

Imagine having to make this lineup of drink tickets as quickly possible hours before the sun comes up:

Iced matcha latte with oat milk

Quad shot Americano with room for cream and three splendas

Decaf sugar free vanilla latte with almond milk and no whipped cream

Banana berry smoothie with half the flavoring, extra strawberries, and soy milk

Half caff caramel hazelnut latte extra hot

London Fog with an extra tea bag, three pumps of vanilla, and skim milk

Cafe au lait extra hot with 2% milk, one pump white chocolate, and three sugars in the raw

Triple shot frozen sugar free peppermint stick mocha no whip

Extra dry coconut milk cappuccino at 145 degrees

Cold brew with light ice, cinnamon syrup, and two inches of sweet foam

Hot chocolate at 120 degrees, extra whipped cream, and sprinkles

Ready? Go!

In addition to memorizing hundreds of drink recipe combinations, baristas are also expected to effortlessly strike up conversations with cranky uncaffeinated customers over top of blaring music and noisy coffee bean grinders. We think three steps ahead at all times while acting chipper and bubbly. I get a headache just thinking about it. For extroverts, this might come naturally and even be enjoyable. But for highly sensitive, neurodivergent introverts like me, this job is draining AF.

Because writing is how I process my emotions and recenter, I decided to write a love letter to all of my fellow baristas:

Dear Barista,

I see you. I love you.

I understand the mental and emotional gymnastics that come with this job.

I know how easy it is to get frustrated and overwhelmed.

I know how hard it is to have multiple people talking at you while you're trying to focus.

I know you are forced to mask the shit going on in your personal life.

I know you always have a headache.

I know you’re grossly underpaid.

I know you’re sleep deprived and surviving on caffeine.

I know customers are grumpy and impatient even though you’re trying your best.

I know it feels impossible to get out of your cozy bed in the dead of winter at 4am.

I know that you are too exhausted and too overstimulated to function after each shift.

I also know that you are doing it.

You are showing up and doing your best.

You are juggling a thousand things at once and still smiling.

This is a job for special humans.

And you just happen to be one of those special humans.

You have superpowers.

I am so proud of you for showing up.

I see you. I love you.

I am learning that, for me, the only way to make this job sustainable is to really take care of myself in my free time. If I was still drinking, this type of work would be impossible. Although it's tough to get out of bed at 4am, I am incredibly grateful that I am not waking up hungover. Sobriety gives me space to be gentle and kind with myself, which is exactly what I need to counterbalance the chaos of being a barista.

Progress.

Leaps of Faith

Phew. How are we approaching mid-December already? Usually, December is a time for reflection and setting intentions for the New Year, but this year I have barely had any time to catch my breath. Last week I started not one but two new jobs. I knew last month when I left my old shitty kitchen job that I was taking a leap of faith. I knew stepping into a new job role would be draining. I knew having my daily routines thrown out of whack would be destabilizing. I also knew that the Universe would catch me if I remained alcohol-free.

However, I did not know the Universe would grant me two job opportunities at the same time. It has been a tough week, but I am finally starting to come out on the other side. I am finally rediscovering my center while living in the messy middle.

The first job, I am a little embarrassed to say, is as a barista at a popular chain coffeehouse where I am incredibly overqualified. On the first day of training, I was so nervous and rattled with thoughts of being a “loser'' that I got dizzy and fainted (lol). After more than a decade of fine dining and coffee industry experience, it feels excruciating to show up as an entry-level employee. I am struck by grief and shame each time I see past schoolmates and past coworkers post on social media about opening restaurants, founding thriving kombucha companies, and creating lattes named after Taylor Swift songs (who wouldn't want a Lavender Haze or a Snow on the Beach latte?!). Social media can feel like a big, fat reminder that I messed up my life.

The second job, however, is an actual paid writing job (eeeeeekk!!!) for a mental health website called HealthyPlace. My job will be to write essays debunking addiction myths. Because this job pays, I believe this officially makes me a professional writer, which has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t pay nearly enough to cover my bills, but that’s okay because the Universe also gave me a part-time barista job to get me by financially.  A girl has to start her writing career somewhere, after all. 

I took a leap of faith and the Universe caught me, just as I knew it would. Every time thoughts of being a “loser” creep into my mind, I can combat them with “professional writer” thoughts. My life might not look like everyone else’s life. I might not have a “real job” or a perfect criminal background, but I am chasing my dreams. And anyone who follows their dreams cannot possibly be a “loser.”

Progress.