I met a young man having coffee today.

He had a gentle warmth to his smile. One enriched through the passage of time and ‘teaching moments,’ – and, hinting of an awareness gained by way of rising up again.

But, that was only one part to a much greater story. For, just as his life was ‘coming together’ – a diagnosis of AIDS threatened to rip it apart.

We met quite by happenstance. As I shuffled preciously through with coffee cupped tightly in both hands, he laughed, “It’s not a stick of dynamite, you know”

I hadn’t realized how silly it must have looked. I had been so caught up in the memory of a recent ‘coffee tumbling’ incident, in which my trembling Parkinsonian hands dropped a 20 ounce coffee to a freshly washed shop floor.

But, when I explained he smiled simply and said, “So what. Life happens, and coffee spills.”

Oh, I could tell he and I would get along just fine. Such an indescribable ‘joie de vivre’, and a joyfulness only surpassed by his kindness of heart.

He told me the story of his diagnosis; the one in a million ‘missed’ transfusions – creating irreversible damage to his body and mind.

When he was diagnosed, his wife of 15 years left him. “She didn’t have the guts,” he said. “I can’t say that I’m blame her.”

The sadness he felt was, at first, overwhelming. Though, in time he realized ‘it marked the beginning of my own liberation.’

The sadness he felt was the result of an initial clinging’; a hanging on to ‘what was’ versus a looking forward to a story that had just begun.

Through his illness, he was finally able to let it all go; to release the very expectations which kept him a prisoner throughout the years.

“It took this,” he said. “To put it all back into perspective.”

And, today? He provides care to those facing the desperation of a so called “life limiting” diagnosed. Through his words, he is giving hope to millions throughout this world.

“Imagine, if I’d just shut down,” he said. “Trusted the diagnosis more than my own spirit?”

We had a long talk about the joys of ‘living fearlessly’, and the blessings which find their way to us in just these sorts of ways.

As he was leaving he smiled and laughed once again,

“I like you,” he said. “All that coffee, only to eat the whipped cream.”

“Yes, but that the very best part – don’t you think” I winked.

Such a blessing to enjoy the gift of his energy. And bonus – I’ve met another stranger, now friend.

A perfect way to begin this day…

❤️