If we’re not careful and intentional, us dreamers and explorers can become disconnected, like a boat adrift, forever chasing dreams.
If we are going to steer our lives in the ways we want them to go, we need to know what those ways are, right?
Anchors can help.
And while anchors can be nearly anything… a favorite meal, a wise saying, family, even a completely committed to idea…
I believe that memories make great anchors.
They keep us on track because they give us something to look back on and hold onto, a firm place to stand, and solid ground to launch from. They also help us with direction, because the ability to look forward requires the ability to look back.
I was fortunate to spend my earliest years growing up in a community full of family. They meant the world to me. And many were coffee drinkers.
Some of my fondest memories from spending the night at my grandmother’s house when I was little are when my uncle, who was a dairy farmer, would come in for a coffee break, slip in the room where my brother and I slept, reach under the warm covers, and touch me with his freezing hand to wake me up. It would still be black dark outside when I’d come out into the kitchen where he and Granny were sitting at the bar drinking coffee and talking. And I’d get some too, with fresh milk and a little sugar (I was still pretty small), and sit up there with them just like I was somebody.
School, especially elementary school, wasn’t my favorite. But riding in the pickup with my dad on the way to school was. And sometimes we’d stop off at Aunt Dado’s house to visit a little. If she didn’t have coffee ready, she’d fix some for us. But Aunt Dado didn’t offer milk or sugar. She said that if I was big enough to drink coffee (and she assured me that I was) that I was big enough to drink coffee the way God made it, straight up, like a man. Seems like I walked into the classroom a little taller on those mornings when my dad took me to school, and especially when we stopped to visit a little with Aunt Dado.
Like Uncle Jakie waking me up, just a little boy, so I could come sit with the grown-ups. Or like when my dad would say, “Why not let’s stop off and see how Aunt Dado’s getting along?”
I don’t remember what all they would be talking about, but it doesn’t really matter. What I remember was being wanted, and thought big enough to participate in what they were doing..
Coffee is linked to those memories and reminds me of who I am … not just anybody, but somebody… and what’s important, like family, caring about others, being up early to meet the day, and hard work.
What about you… have you ever thought about what are, or could be, your anchors?
So I’m up pretty early this morning. It’s still black dark outside. I’m here drinking coffee and thinking about all the work I’d like to get done today. No cream or sugar by the way.
I began journaling several years ago, a practice that eventually became very meaningful and helpful. But only after I figured out what I was actually trying to get from it, which is mainly a way to get thoughts and ideas out of my head where I could do something with them.
Like hopes and dreams.
…
Photo by Laura Fuhrman on Unsplash