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  • When possible I spend my Sunday mornings at the coffee shop, Hyperion, downtown. It is my space for respite and reflection. A place where I can seek the perfect peace that occasionally breezes through my soul. At best I can describe it as a stillness and serenity that fills me so fully I can, for a brief time, look upon my own inevitable death with happiness and acceptance.

    In search of peace I partake of consecrated eucharist, coffee & croissant, while completing the holy crossword puzzle or reading a Good Book. I cannot help such puns, those Sunday mornings produce such joy, reverence and awe in me. There have been times where, after sinking deeply in to a good book, I look back up at the world and find myself a stranger to the place. Like a wanderer who has returned home after a long journey. Things look the same but, the world is somehow different. It is spectacularly unsettling.

    When I'm not busy isolating my mind from the commotion of the shop I people watch. A wide range of people pass through the shop: Runners, seniors, out-of-towners, infants, students, cyclists, parents, children, church-goers, bikers, townies, sinners & saints. The conversations bubble up around me, it is hard to not eavesdrop, so I listen (who can resist the fellowship of other souls?). Listening helps keep me tethered to the world.

    Eventually the bottom of the cup surfaces and it is time to return home. If I'm lucky the peace I was seeking finds it way back into my soul. And as I step out the door I silently thank the world for another Sunday.
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