A cup rejects neither sorrow and weariness or joy and peace. It’s design is to hold. Even empty it still holds air. As is my habit, I always wrap my hands around my coffee cup to absorb its warmth. Tonight’s warmth was heavy with sorrow and weariness. Eyes closed and the morning’s sunrise painted my eye lids.  My heart sighed to re-see a small bird’s colors artistically blending with a wall.

The journey is not about what’s in the cup. The journey is about the willingness to accept the cup. To drink and absorb its gift.