Coffee shops are mental safe houses for some of us with overactive brains. Something about it soothes, and it seems to be where I am the most productively thoughtful.
The hissing of the espresso machine, the whirring of the blender, the white noise of deep and meaningless chatter, the soft hum of semi-alternative folk music, the barista who calls out random names and fancy drinks, and best of all the buzz of caffeine in my veins.
It’s quiet, and the sounds that should be loud never are. Perhaps the cacophony of obscure sounds mix together in a way that touches the soul and pacifies the mind, or maybe the low-lighting and euphoric atmosphere just really hones our senses.
I don’t know, and I don’t care.
I refuse to see the science behind it because then the magic of an unflawed coffee-space is lost.
When in need of a day to yourself, I urge you to go. Sit in a shop with a book, a sketchpad, something that you can use in a productive manner and see what happens.
If you’re anything like me, you’re in store for a lovely, restoring and peaceful day.
Whether it’s Starbucks or a local hole-in-the-wall, there is a special sort of charm that is only found in a coffee shop.