A coffee shop in the rain

The weather forecast called for rain, but it still took me by surprise. Outside my coffee shop window, tiny rivers run down the sides of the street. A woman with a blue umbrella trudges through the parking lot across the street. A passing mail truck kicks up a mist, its wheels whooshing wetly.

Rain comes, a necessary gift to the land, cleansing and refreshing and offering excuses to curl up on the couch with a book and a cat.

Necessary, yes. But sometimes it’s sad. Like today. 

Today the rain is sad because I am sad. 

I don’t know why I’m sad. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just empty inside, or too full, I’m not sure. I just know I’m not OK.

I don’t feel like I have permission to not be OK. My life is so easy. So full of privileges. I’m loved. I’m supported. I’m healthy. I have the time and the means to sit in a coffee shop with a Hotty Scotty latte and watch the rain and type about my feelings. 

People I love are fighting really, really big life battles. They deserve to be sad, and scared, and angry. It feels wrong for me to claim those feelings when my load is so much easier to carry.

I have no reason to be sad. I don’t deserve to be sad.

But I am.

The rain will let up, and I’ll be fine tomorrow, or even later today. For now, though, I’ve got a knot in my heart, and I’m struggling.

I’ve been avoiding writing blog posts lately to put more of my writing energies into the book I want to write. I needed to write this post today because I needed somewhere to put my sadness. But I also wanted to write it because I suspect a lot of people walk around in the rain, feeling feelings they think it’s not OK to have. 

And maybe it’ll help someone else to know that I’m sad, too.

A few months ago, on a day when my cancer treatments hung especially heavy on my shoulders, I ordered a hot drink at a coffee shop that employs and raises money for women facing huge life obstacles. The woman at the counter saw sadness on my face as she took my order. She asked if she could pray for me. I nodded. She called together the other workers, and we stood in a close circle and she asked God to carry and comfort me, whatever my needs may be.

When I needed a place of peace today, a place where it was OK to feel sad even though it’s not OK to feel sad, I knew where to come.

Today’s barista is new, you can tell. She wasn’t sure what buttons to push and took my order with a nervous giggle. I wonder what her story is. What hurt she’s gone through. Whether she was sad when she came to work this morning.

What I do know is that, whatever her past, she’s helping to create a safe space for me, in this place where people understand that sometimes people are sad, and that sometimes the rain comes, and you have to just let it come.

I started therapy recently. You’re not supposed to tell people that, I hear my inner voice say. But I want to be healthier emotionally ― even though I’m super scared about the hard work it might take to get there ― and there’s no shame in that. I hope it helps me be stronger, strong enough to help other people be stronger, too.

Everyone gets sad, and the rain lets up, and they get happy again. If you’re sad today, you’re not alone.

And if you’re not sad today, know that someone around you might need you to be a coffee shop in the rain.