Tag: life

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#135 Coffee with John

We all know our time is borrowed. But do we actually live like it, or do we complain, shelve our dreams, and tell ourselves we will get to them when the time is right?

If a debilitating disease gave you only fragmented windows in a day, how would you spend your hours?

For most of us, this stays hypothetical. We are healthy enough to avoid the question. For some, however, it’s a daily reality.

Author Brooke Shaffner, my coffee mate for this round, is one of them.

She has lived with Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis—a rare liver disease that brings extreme fatigue, among other symptoms—since she was 23.

Her window to write, ride her bicycle, and build her Listening Labs and Freedom Tunnel Press initiatives is narrow. She was generous enough to meet me anyway, and the conversation went to some deeply emotional places.

She told me about author Josh Goldfaden, who died of cancer in 2015. “He taught love,” she said of their short romantic time together. He wrote until the end, fiercely committed to his craft despite what the disease took from him.

Their story, and their love, left me sitting with how much time we waste

We scroll instead of calling the friend we have been meaning to call. We obsess over the lawn but forget to lie down in it. We complain about the dreams we never chased, out of fear. We invent reasons not to take the dance lesson we have always wanted.

The window of time closes each day. Today is your day.

Memento mori.

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#133 Coffee with John

It all ends.

Relationships, connections, careers, and, ultimately, life itself.

But mortality aside, and without going into the metaphysics of what happens after our last breath, the ordinary “ends” of our lives always demand a new beginning—whether we want it or not.

Heartbreak forces us into new chapters of romance or solitary self-exploration. The same is true when a job, or whatever else informs our identity, suddenly shifts from the ground we know.

Over and over, after watching people get swallowed whole by circumstances, I have witnessed them emerge and pick up the pieces after the world as they knew it had tumbled. Humanity is filled with extraordinary resilience.

Ends are inevitable. What I have been thinking about, though, is the after.

What makes some people adept at moving forward, while others become paralyzed, getting stuck in narratives of victimhood, old identities, or past lives? Is resilience a mindset that can be cultivated over time? Or are some simply born with an innate wiring that makes them more capable of weathering the storm of change?

Certainly, our psychology, our upbringing, and our life experiences inform how we deal with the fractures. But for most of my life, I have been a firm believer—perhaps to a fault—that you simply have to move on.

My patience for hearing broken-record stories of old grievances is thin.

I want to give people the space and time they need to heal. I believe in providing a safe space for people to be heard. But I struggle when the needle gets stuck in the groove, playing the same track of suffering over and over. In those moments, I fight the urge to yell: “How is this serving you? Move on. There is no point in drowning in self-pity or anchoring yourself to a situation that brings you nothing but misery.”

Being uprooted to a new country, losing my parents at different stages of my life, and experiencing the grief that came after my wife died have given me the armor that informs my impatience. My tolerance, I admit, is limited.

Sure, there is no moratorium on the time it takes to “get over” pain and sorrow. We all move at our own pace. But I wonder how many of us use our grievances as crutches. What might have served as a necessary shield at one point in your life can easily become the weight that hinders your progress later.

I don’t know what to offer someone in the midst of their tumbling – maybe nothing beyond presence and patience at the outset of the wreckage, without trying to fix or force a timeline to get over things.

Ultimately, however, when we have sat with our emotions and wrestled in the arena of our sorrow, however long that might be, we have to reclaim authorship.

There will always be plot twists we didn’t ask for and endings that break our hearts. How we choose to write the next chapter is within our power.

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#132 Coffee with John

It has taken me some time to finish this write-up.

Originally, I intended to start it like this:

For Coffee with John #132, I spent a balmy afternoon with two talented and beautiful souls, Sydney Duarte and Treazy Treaz. They are staples in the local art scene, known for community-building initiatives that promote “unity through art and creativity.”

At the center of their work is the Piece for Peace movement—a call for people to create, in any form, an art piece that exemplifies peace or the TAOH (The Awakening of Humanity) symbol. Our conversation zigzagged from topic to topic as they showed me around the TAOH Outdoor Gallery on N. Brevard Street, an open space that welcomes anyone to paint, sculpt, or build, regardless of skill level...

That is where I left off before life threw a sucker punch that knocked me off my feet.

In the aftermath, I struggled with how to finish this. I had originally wanted to write something poetic in response to Treazy’s question about my biggest takeaway from this project. I wanted to talk about embracing the ups and downs of life as a gift—a grandiose message about “suffering as sacred.”

While I was reeling from the knockout, my reaction was: “Screw that. Life is not fair.” I wanted to lash out, cry, and throw in the towel. I wanted to discard this entire eight-year journey.

But the fight is defined by how you show up in the arena. I had to gather my thoughts and focus. I had to remain composed and not let the weight of the moment break me.

Perhaps because I am on the other side of it now, I can sit here and say that I still believe whatever life throws at you—the good, the bad, and the ugly—is a gift. Our suffering is sacred. It shapes us, strips us down, and, if we let it, points us back toward what truly matters.

Looking back on the time I spent with Sydney and Treazy—the space they’ve built and the stories they’ve chosen to keep telling—it becomes clear that showing up is the answer.

Showing up. Not without pain. Just showing up. For others. For ourselves. For our communities. Showing up when you can’t see through the blood and tears, while the punches are still coming, and you feel you are losing control of a situation you never truly had control over in the first place.

The path will knock us down. The challenge is whether we get back up and keep walking without letting resentment, bitterness, or sadness become the only story we tell about ourselves.

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#131 Coffee with John – A Sunday Long Distance Phone Call

What is our tipping point?

Why does it take some of us years to reach this moment, and others, only a fraction of that time? When does the moment come when we decide, “Enough”?

Does it take a DUI, another breakup with the same partner, or a recurring toxic interaction with a friend or a colleague?

More often, it doesn’t have to be extreme. It can be an unremarkable Tuesday when something ordinary suddenly becomes unbearable. In many cases, it is an aggregate of a long series of unhealthy occurrences that we have carried for far too long.

But no matter the event, reasons, or whether we carry part of the blame or not, taking that step to change the situation takes courage, which often entails navigating uncharted territory.

It might mean severing old habits, relations with friends and family, and ideals of who we are and what our lives should be.

Life sometimes brings us to that point without us having much control or say, but when we control and decide to dive into that unknown to change our lives, it is probably the biggest and, in our minds, the most insurmountable decision we have taken in a long time.

It is at this moment that we doubt our decision or look back and ask why we didn’t do this sooner, before reaching this point.

We can look at why we tried to make the situation work – fear of failure, the social dimensions of keeping up appearances, holding on to an ideal, or our own blindness – but only what’s in front of us matters as we navigate and get tested over and over again as we walk a new path.

This new path is fraught with uncertainty, challenges, and setbacks. It takes bravery, yes, but also self-kindness and forgiveness. It means forgiving ourselves for the Tuesday mornings when we wake up wondering if we made a mistake, for the moments we miss what was familiar even when it was harmful, and for taking so long to leave in the first place.

In those moments when we are most vulnerable, we can take solace in knowing that the unknown is filled with possibilities and new experiences – it is a space that calls out to us, waiting for us to arrive at a new beginning of ourselves and our lives.

We are not alone in this space – there is a community: those who have walked a similar path or are in the process of beginning their own, ready to offer not just understanding but proof that we can survive this, that the path forward exists even when we cannot yet see it.

Inspired by this round of Coffee with John and recent interactions with different friends, I offer these words as part of that community.

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#130 Coffee with John: Virtual Edition

I remember the pain and the unrest that the tragic death of George Floyd brought across the nation.

Recently, I met a resident of Minneapolis who lived and experienced the unrest firsthand. Living a few blocks from where Mr. Floyd died, she and her community of friends and neighbors had to come together and help each other get through those tumultuous events.

Listening to her story as we met virtually for this round of Coffee with John, transformed headlines and statistics into something far more intimate. It brought George Floyd’s story closer, turning it from a distant tragedy into a neighbor’s lived reality.

This is why we must travel, talk to strangers, and make connections beyond the bubbles that surround us.

How can we sympathize and empathize with others when we are only experiencing the world through closed walls — walls we create and are exacerbated by social media algorithms, the news we consume, and the company we select?

I don’t doubt that we can identify and sympathize with strangers, events, and tragedies miles from where we live. Still, when familiar with the people and those affected places, we feel it deeper into the cavities of our hearts.

News of the California fires takes on a different dimension when you’ve walked those trails and spent days in the now-vanished neighborhoods. The burned house with the koi pond isn’t just another far-away tragedy – it becomes visceral, and you feel the despair and gravity of the loss at your core.

Same with areas and communities like Asheville, NC that have been part of your experience. The floods that hit those areas are more than news. Your mind goes to restaurants, friends, art galleries, and shops you visited with your son or girlfriend that might not be there when you visit next time, expanding your understanding of a shared reality.

In writing this, I learned that what I am describing is what sociologists call proximity empathy. The notion is that getting close to people can help us understand them better and develop empathy for their experiences.

The challenge lies in overcoming the barriers to experiencing the world and connecting with people different from us. Perhaps it starts by joining a random meet-up group, reading memoirs from across different walks of life, or, simply, talking to a stranger.

At a time when our nation is more divided than ever, the responsibility of not losing touch with our humanity and sympathy for others falls on all of us.



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#128 Coffee with John

The phrase “live your truth” is often touted as a guiding principle, but what does it mean?

Is it an act of bravery, or can it be seen as selfishness? What price do we pay for pursuing our path? Where do we draw the line between pathological behavior and a moral compass? Where is the boundary between honoring your inner truth and disregarding the impact on others?

The lines between living authentically and considering others’ feelings can be blurred or be clearly defined, depending on the context. Would we lie to family and friends, pretending all is well? Would we hide parts of our personality to conform to the status quo? What price are we willing to pay (either way, there is a price to pay)?

I can’t pretend to know the answers or know how I would tackle a situation that would force me to break from my community, friends, or family. The closest I have come is distancing myself due to political disagreements, but I strive to meet people with mutual respect and civility.

Markus Zusak’s “The Book Thief” provides an extreme example where the protagonists subtly defy Nazi Germany. Their quiet acts of kindness were a form of resistance and living with accordance with their inner values, but outright defiance meant death and punishment for their loved ones.

Fortunately, most of us never face such dire predicaments. Still, life is full of circumstances where embracing our truth can feel like a death sentence, breaking away from family, work, community, and friends. This can take the form of ending a relationship, disavowing core beliefs or embracing our hidden sexuality . Whatever the circumstances, bravery and integrity are required: integrity to live by your inner compass; and bravery to endure the price, including judgment, alienation, criticism, and backlash.

I didn’t get to discuss these questions with her but this brings me to Desiree, my coffee mate for this round of “Coffee with John.” You can read her story of living her truth in her own words as part of the HuffPost Personal essays here.

Desiree and her husband made a decision that changed their lives. What prompted me to invite her for a virtual coffee was not their decision to abandon their church or open their marriage, but her openness to connect with people from different walks of life—parallel to the spirit that fuels my “Coffee with John.”

Despite our three-hour time zone difference, in the spirit of CWJ, Desiree joined me with a black, cold brew from their special batch. We discussed her journey since her 2023 HuffPost article. Her life has had ups and downs, but she remains on a path of self-discovery as a wife, writer, mother, and sexual being in the exploration of her sexuality.

Our conversation ended abruptly as our Zoom time ran out, leaving many questions and themes unearthed.

I leave you with these questions to consider: How are you living your truth? Will you open yourself to scrutiny in search of your tribe, even if it means leaving behind what has shaped you so far?

Ultimately, living our truth requires a delicate balance on the high wire of life, where we must adjust each step to prevent falling.

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#127 Coffee with John

I like the concept of lessons hidden within us, waiting for us to discover them. Life’s circumstances—marriage, sickness, loss, a new job, divorce, new relationships—lead us to these explorations, whether or not we are ready to unearth anything.

The lessons these situations bring we often perceive them as points of arrival. After the battle in the arena, we wipe the dirt off our faces and feel we have arrived, with the smugness of wisdom shining through. We should bask and feel proud of discovering ourselves in the process.

Conquering the ups and downs of life requires courage and bravery. It takes self-awareness to embrace our challenges and recognize what we have learned. However, we often forget that there is no final destination. Life is a continuous journey, with the next lesson always around the corner.

Perhaps we reach a point where past lessons carry us forward, allowing us to coast for a while until the next few stops. But soon, a new point of departure will take us in a different direction. Will we embrace our new path? Will we be open to the new challenge? Will we have the endurance to free our hearts and minds from the past and meet the new future? Will we shed the aspects of our lives that hold us back? Will old patterns challenged by new paths prevail?

As I continue to meet people through my “Coffee with John” initiative, I can affirm that the answer to most of these questions is a resounding yes. Yes, we can continue to grow. Yes, we can shed beliefs that hold us back. Yes, we can embrace what seems like a treacherous road to find strength, courage, and a better version of ourselves around the corner.

The power of the human spirit is boundless and filled with infinite strength, as my coffee mate for this Coffee with John round exemplifies. Her story is hers to share, but she represents strength, resilience, and hope.

We are not alone in navigating life’s shifting roads. Our struggles, challenges, and victories are ours, but the road is filled with many who have traversed similar paths. This is where the power of sharing our stories, whether in a group setting, over a cup of coffee with a new friend, in a writing practice, or in any other form, becomes key.

Share your story to empower and give voice to fellow pilgrims.

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#126 Coffee with John

What do you think of Charlotte as a community?

A recent comment made me reflect on my own experiences and sense of community here.

My coffee mates for this round of Coffee with John (CWJ), Alejandra and Pedro (Somos dos Universos/We are two Universes), share with me the strong sense of community we have found in the Queen City.

For two hours or so, we touched on different topics including their journey across the US, from the East Coast to the West – an adventure they set out to shortly after they arrived in the United States. They lived in New York, California, and Florida before settling in Charlotte. A common thread emerged: their strong sense of community.

In their short time living here, they have become an integral part of a thriving network of artists, entrepreneurs, and leaders through their social media and non-profit ventures, and their dedication to volunteering and supporting others.

As we chatted, they greeted a few familiar faces walking into the cafe. One woman, who was in the process of moving back to Charlotte after some time away, was introduced to us by one of those familiar faces. She shared a different perspective. Having lived here for two years previously, she felt the city lacked a sense of community.

Experiences can differ for so many reasons. A place that holds romantic notions for some can be a source of sadness and heartbreak for others. While I can’t speak for this woman’s experience, I can share my own. Like Alejandra and Pedro, I have found a welcoming and generous community in Charlotte.

The people I have met throughout my 17 years here have been my rock. When my wife was going through treatment, the community’s kindness and generosity helped us weather emotional and financial hardship. After her passing, the same support system, along with new connections, helped me through my grief with hugs, kind words, and practical acts like checking in and sending movie gift cards. When I ventured into projects like Coffee with John or Latinx Portraits, the community responded with unwavering support and faith in my abilities. I have had strangers sit with me for a cup of coffee. I have had an exhibit of my work. I have had the opportunity to receive a grant in support of my photography.

I’ve met wonderful people in New York and Florida, too. But the level of community I’ve experienced in Charlotte surpasses anything I found in the Big Apple or the Sunshine State. Alejandra and Pedro embody the spirit of community I cherish in this city.

I hope anyone moving here for the first time or returning can find the kindness, love, opportunities, and support I know Charlotte offers.

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#125 Coffee with John

“A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

A super spy? A wealthy, brilliant engineer, inventor, turned half-man, half-machine with imaginable powers?

What makes a superhero? Who is your superhero in your life?

My mate for this round of Coffee with John and I had talked about our superheroes, among other topics. As a community organizer, he has many stories of people becoming superheroes in their own narratives.

One story he shared with me is that of a woman who overcame nearly losing her house by taking on the lender for unfair and predatory lending practices. She went from feeling powerless as a mother with a special needs child to finding her voice, overcoming her comfort zone to tackle Goliath. Her journey forced her to do public speaking and get comfortable talking to news outlets. Today, she continues to advocate, empowering others to find their voice.

My own superhero, my late wife, faced cancer with an unwavering spirit. Even in her darkest and most painful days, she found ways to inspire and lift others, never feeling sorry for herself. Through her journey, I met a handful of superheroes who stood by our side from the start of her cancer diagnosis to the day she died. Friends and members of her extended network carried us through those challenging days, from providing a shoulder to cry on, organizing fundraisers to help us deal with medical debt to bringing us food at times when we were physically and mentally drained. In particular, her friends Maria and Becky will always be my superheroes.

I don’t know what exactly makes a superhero a hero. I know that for me has been people lending a hand without any expectations, those overcoming extraordinary challenges, individuals or communities standing up for themselves or others, and those finding ways to lift their community.

Within that definition, my coffee companion for this round is a superhero. I admire his advocacy work, honesty in handling a history of depression, and determination to use art for self-expression and to lift others. Through his advocacy and art, he is sharing stories of unsung heroes and empowering many to lift their voices.

We might not all be the best version of ourselves at all times. We stumble, we falter, and our egos and emotions sometimes cloud our judgment. But within each of us is the potential for a small act of kindness, a word of encouragement, or a helping hand that can make a world of difference, not just for others, but for ourselves. All it might take is being brave for five minutes longer than the rest.

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#124 Coffee with John

“Ancient Egyptians believed that upon death they would be asked two questions and their answers would determine whether they could continue their journey in the afterlife. The first question was, ‘Did you bring joy?’ The second was, ‘Did you find joy?’”

-Leo Buscaglia

Have you always known what you wanted to do with your life? 

Some are lucky and find their calling early in life. 

Others are still searching. 

Since the age of five, I knew I wanted to be a grant writer, a sentiment no grant writer has ever uttered! 

Clearly, I group myself with the wandering souls, not to say I have not practiced or done what I love. I have been fortunate to successfully make a living by weaving words together.

They might not be novels, plays, poems, or what we might associate with writing, but life has allowed me to work on a craft supporting the arts as a grant writer for a theatre company. Ironically, I remember two or three people early in my life telling me that whatever I did in life should not be anywhere near writing. 

Perhaps those words of doubt fueled me with a drive to push myself to master the craft, hammering each comma and period at a time, leading to where I am today. To the chagrin of my detractors, I can confidently say now that I can write a cohesive sentence.

In the last few years, I have continued to explore other aspects that call out to me. This exploration is connecting me with the inner artists I have long neglected. As a kid, I enjoyed spending endless hours drawing and painting. Chasing photography brings me that same joy. The ability to combine photography and writing through my projects is a pinnacle I continue to pursue. 

Will I make a living out of it? Is that my calling? 

 I don’t believe in having one calling in life, nor am I pursuing fame, glory, and fortune. Why not embrace a polymathic approach if one can? What I am after is nourishing my soul and engaging in what brings me joy. Equally important for me is using whatever talents are at my disposal to tell stories, connect with community, and grow professionally, personally, and spiritually.  

Sharing, learning, nourishing the soul, and challenging myself are central to my pursuits. Concurrently, these elements align with my coffee mate’s goal to build a business to help people connect with their passions, dreams, and goals. 

My place here is not to talk about her business but rather to leave you with the query: how would you answer the question posed in the quote at the start of this write-up? 

What brings you joy? How are you spending your time in this season of your life? What are you doing to share your talents with the world despite what others think? What actions can you take today to unearth those dreams and passions long buried in the treasure box of your memories?