At my lowest of lows, still I know that I am the stuff of stars.
I share base genetic properties with the mightiest of oaks,
The brightest super nova and everything under the microscope.
When I feel I can't dig myself any deeper, so far from my goals,
The weight of the world wearing down with all my regret,
Still I know that I am worthy and capable, with just so much in store.
I am and I can and I will, if I just still know, go, sow and grow.
My improbable existence is magnificent, even when I feel devoured.
All purpose is mine to define and relish, and yet so invaluable.
Whatever I decided, wherever I go, whoever I become.
Still I know that I owe the universe everything and am owed nothing.
Regret after regret, hurtle after hurtle, rejection, disappointment,
Still I know, though it may not show in my graceless dance in the undertow,
And all of their obvious doubt, my life and ability beckons so much more.
(formerly "Bare Barista Threads" and "Memoirs of a Pizza Girl")
With a year of delivering pizza, two and a half years as a barista, and some more time in the trenches, I have plenty of stories, thoughts, and musings. The days that threatened to break me all the while built me. I want to help others in my profession view their work as an opportunity, too. This is my soap box.