Phone Calls in a Coffee Shop

A Brief Reflection on Receiving

My morning started late and all at once. I slept too long, had fifteen minutes to get to an appointment, and my head was starting to throb. Frankly, I had little hope for the tone of the day improving as it went on. There are few things I enjoy less than doctor’s appointments. On this particular afternoon, I was gritting my teeth harder than usual, preparing for the unpleasantness of addressing my own problems. I got through it, unharmed but annoyed. My brain was already five steps ahead and pushing me toward the list of tasks for the rest of the day. My day flipped when my phone rang. I’ll admit, I hesitated at first. It was a dear friend who I’d been wanting to catch up with. But I felt tired. I was mentally exhausted. But she had asked, and I had said yes, and I am so glad that I picked up.

We all lead busy lives. Some more than others, but busy, nonetheless. It feels impossible to get through the day at a truly manageable pace. I practically had to sit on my hands the other day just to watch a movie without multitasking. Time is a precious resource. We each have a unique supply of time and energy to give to tasks, and people, each day. Lately, I have found myself becoming selfish with both.

There have been many occasions on which I have chosen not to answer the phone or attend the event, citing social exhaustion or a never-ending to-do list. Now both of these are true constants in my life. But it is easy to lean into them in a way that closes me off to the willingness to receive. It’s often “not the best time”. I’m (too) often exhausted. But if my time and energy are precious, the time and energy of others is equally so. To close my hand when offered either of those things is a mistake, and it has its consequences. As I sipped my coffee and enjoyed our conversation, I wondered why I didn’t feel this way more often. While this call neither cured my exhaustion nor shortened my to-do list, it filled my cup. A cup that I had been holding close to my chest while complaining that it was empty.

Pick up the phone. Make the plans. Take fifteen minutes out of your day to laugh, cry, or just take up space with someone. I promise that your fifteen tired minutes are worth more than you know.