Coffee, Corgis, and Contemplation

A day in the big city, far from the Little Shed

My idea of fun in a big city is not seeing the latest play or being one of thousands in a crowd at a concert. I prefer an afternoon where I can sit in a great coffee shop with a warm and foamy latte, hands ready at the keyboard.

Last Saturday, my youngest son and I did just that. I was a long way from the Little Shed, but I stepped out of my comfort zone to navigate the sea of people on the subway in Toronto. It took me years to overcome the unease of the mass of people and the fear of getting lost in the concrete jungle.

We settled on a spot located in the busy entertainment district on King Street. This meeting spot was filled with weathered wooden tables and leather backed chairs. A place where the atmosphere was as warm as the drinks in the handmade pottery cups.

There’s nothing better than uninterrupted time to sit and write.

No responsibilities

No day job for that day

Just me and the keyboard

and Chris Stapleton in my ears

I had everything I needed, and it typically took me about fifteen minutes or so to ease into the process. On that day, however, I couldn’t seem to find the focus the writing sprints usually provided me.

I was distracted by the oodles of people walking to and fro and to be honest, it was the

dogs. There were always so many corgis and shiba inus in that city. Did I mention how much I loved watching countless dogs trot alongside their human companions?

I counted four corgis in one hour sitting in that coffee shop. 

GET BACK TO WRITING the loud voice inside my head blurted. So I did, but only until I spotted the short-haired, black chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. 

After a few hours of “writing”, I accomplished very little, save for a letter I wrote to my younger self and a few lines for a story I’ve been working on (about a dog no less).

Later that afternoon, we headed back home and my inner critic decided to visit me one more time to scold me for my lack of word production. I reflected on my purpose for writing as the train hummed along the tracks and the passengers swayed to its movement. I allowed her to take up space in my thoughts for a short time … but left her on the subway as I exited the door.

It wasn’t about the number of words that made their way to paper. It was the quality of the time spent. Admiring the many cute doggos in their tailored jackets, sitting alongside my son, and sipping on a warm drink was exactly what I needed in that moment.

One of those decked out corgis will ultimately make it into my story. I just know it.