(Stream of consciousness thought)
The sun came up over New York City and I was lost somewhere between the hours of missed sleep and a mild swarm of confusion. I am at an impasse and I am not sure which move comes next.
Taking my coffee time to the roof above Lexington Avenue, I felt the autumn breeze flow against me.
I faced the downtown buildings with a view of the East River to my left and the Brooklyn bound bridges in the distance.
I believe the sunrise was meant for moments like this. I watch the sunrise and see it as an opportunity to gain a moment of clarity. I think this is the best time to shed the wasted thoughts and prepare for a new day. And this morning; I chose to do just that.
Before the hours of occupation at my place of business, and armed with a white mug filled with dark, roasted coffee, I had a word with God the Father while listening to the city gradually turn up its volume.
After the sun took its position in the sky and the morning colors touched the face of tall mirrored buildings, daylight took the dominant role, and life at street-level began to quicken. Taxi cabs wove through the streets and pedestrians grew in numbers.
This is why I chose my spot above the world. There are no interruptions or distractions. The sound of Manhattan hums just above the range of silence—which is loud enough to narrate my thoughts without language.
I do not have any answers for today. I do not have any remedies for yesterday’s questions, and I am not sure what will or will not be resolved. I only know there is work that waits for me in the building beneath my feet.
I cannot decide which way to turn or where to begin; but I feel as though I have a new quest ahead of me. I feel as if there’s a new plan that waits for me and perhaps I should be less afraid to grow and more inspired to evolve.
That’s why I took my coffee time on the roof above Lexington Avenue. I needed a minute to sort the scrambled thoughts inside of my head.
Part of depression is over-thinking. It is over analyzing even the simplest things, and then suddenly, the small whispering thoughts become too loud. Concerns branch into others and worries take on their own shape while growing in size. If I fall too deeply to this, I become part of the mechanical windings that turn the gears to my depression, and the small whispering thoughts are no longer small.
I compare this feeling to my reaction when seeing bright light while handling a migraine headache. Only, there is no light switch when it comes to depression . . . at least not at this point. I lose my choices when I give in to the machine-like thought process.
That’s why I went up to the roof above Lexington Avenue this morning.
I went up to have a cup of coffee with God the Father.
To settle my thoughts
. . . and to think about you