.observation and reflection.:.tranquility.

The different aromas of freshly brewed coffee trigger my senses as I leave the bitter outdoors and enter the Starbucks Coffee shop located on 33rd and O Streets in the heart of Lincoln, Nebraska. No candle, potpourri, or Glade Plug-In could duplicate the smell of a coffee shop. Hazelnut, cappuccino, whipped soymilk, pastries, and syrups of all kinds mixed together to create the most delicious fragrance. It is unlike any other smell in the world; uniquely captivating and soothing my soul as I go further into the store. I walk past several couples sitting in close proximity not noticing my presence as they stare into one another’s eyes. The sound of espresso machines grows louder. Approaching the counter at the same time as I, the overly cheerful Starbucks employee, Luke, proceeds to ask how my evening is prior to taking my order. After responding with a robotic, “great, thanks”, I order a Tall Skinny Caramel Latte without hesitation.

This is followed by the most difficult decision of the night--- where to sit. The store has two separate seating sections on opposite sides of the door. To the left is the larger of the two sections in which two sides encompass large windows where one can see the darting traffic of both major streets and the orderly parking lot. One other wall holds four very elaborate mirrors that give the room the essence of elegance. The other section is quite secluded with only a grand mural on the east wall. It is a triptych; each piece separated by only an inch or two of wall space. Painted is a Greek goddess statue with extravagant slate blue doves flying around her. The painting itself is rather abstract with no real setting or theme. Waves of blue, green, and mauve overlap creating a giant stroke of color on each panel. Without definite features aside from the ivory goddess and her flock of doves, the mural adds peacefulness to the room. Both seating areas include large armchairs cushioned with strange, yet artistic designs and small tables for two made with darkly stained oak wood. Each wall is painted in autumn hues with pumpkin, chocolate brown, red, tan, or creamy beige. The colors of coffee splash the walls giving the store a relaxing appeal as coffee triggers not only the olfactory, but the visual senses as well. Looking around and strategically placing myself far from the love-filled eyes of those couples I passed earlier, I find the most interesting and unoccupied chair, a black high-backed armchair, and begin to walk towards it.

I pass a scruffy-looking man in a navy blue sweater vest sitting in the corner opposite the door with a laptop on the table in front of him. He looks like a studious graduate student or a writer typing mechanically on his computer as if he has been sitting there for days with coffee as his only source of energy. He does not notice my stare, but instead types unconsciously. His coat and tan messenger bag are placed on the chair across from him as if to say “I do not want company”. There are moments when I feel very similar to this stranger of a man. At times, I like to be alone where I can focus on my own thoughts and where no one else can disrupt my meditation. Having a roommate at college can make this process quite difficult where privacy is encountered only during showers. It is for this reason that I find myself in coffee shops. They have a way of triggering all of my senses and placing me in a calm and relaxed state of being. “Tall Skinny Caramel Latte!”--my thought is broken by Luke announcing the completion of my drink of choice.

I have gone through many favorite Starbucks concoctions in the past, but at the moment my senses prefer the warm caramel taste mixed in with a shot of espresso and Starbucks brand coffee topped off with whipped soy milk. There is nothing comparable to the consoling pleasure of coffee. I recall the very first coffee I drank. It was a Caramel Mocha Latte. From then on, I have been intrigued by the different mixtures available to me at various coffee shops. Not all coffee must be steaming hot; it can be made into a frappuccino which I find to be quite refreshing in the summer months. There is nothing like the refreshing taste of a cold, icy drink when the weather is scalding hot. Even the cold coffees have a way of calming me. Despite the possibilities around me, I always find a favorite drink that I can rely on if I am indecisive.

I hold my latte, careful not to spill it, as I meander my way back to the high-backed black chair. I can smell the scent of caramel and whipped soy foam. The cardboard sleeve on the cup keeps me from burning my hands, but I can still feel the heat radiate from inside. I sit and gently sip the latte as to not burn my lips. It tastes just like the first time, not too strong with just enough caramel to make it sweet. I notice the sophisticated golden vines on the strange red and black rug beneath me. It is attractive and expensive looking, but does not seem to belong with the other furniture in Starbucks. I stare at the weaving gold vines with large leaves. I can feel myself relax as the coffee takes over my senses. Then a rush of cold air awakes me as a girl enters carrying a laptop case. I recognize her as one of my classmates. She notices me, but does not say “hello”. Instead, we exchange glances. She sits on the opposite side of the store from me; flips open her white MacBook, and begins to type. I return to my latte on the coffee table in front of me and am once again taken into a soft trance.

The sounds of the acoustic guitar fill the room in a melody unfamiliar to me. The light plucking of the strings and squeals of fingers moving across the finger board are so intricate. Jack Johnson’s voice softly singing the melody of a song I have never heard from his new album “Sleep through the Static”. I sit on the soft cushion of my high-backed chair and close my eyes. The notes of the guitar drown out all of the voices in the room. I listen to the song until the very end, which leaves me wanting more. A jazz flute annoyingly takes over the room and I can feel my ears ring. The terribly high pitched noise that erupts through the instrument makes me want to leave, but I cannot. I focus on a black shelf that sits across the room from me only 10 feet away. I had not seen it when I first sat down or even the second time, but now I see it. The top two shelves contain dozens of bags of Starbucks Latin America brewed coffee. They are placed so strategically that they do not look to be for sale, only for aesthetical purposes. The bottom two shelves of are much larger and contain very expensive stainless steel coffee makers. Such merchandise takes away from the comfortable mood of Starbucks as I am reminded that it is a store, not just a lounge. The disgustingly loud jazz music fades and I hear another Jack Johnson song in the speaker above me and I am serene.

Serenity, such as that provided at a local coffee shop, is found uniquely within individuals. While my tranquility is that of a Starbucks, others may prefer the peaceful scenery of a pond or the porch of his or her very own house. None the less, the search for perfect serenity is unique for each person and once found, cannot be replaced. All of my senses are engaged when I enter a coffee shop. It is not just the music or smells that relax me, but all of the senses that ignite my soul. The smells of coffee, music playing overhead, taste of caramel, warmth and comfort in the furniture and the visual stimuli all account for my tranquility. It is not silence that I seek outside the walls of my dorm room, but a place to relax and soak in everything around me. Such a unique experience could never be found elsewhere, and it is this that leads me to my desired coffee drink.

I smell the caramel syrup gathered at the bottom of my cup as I approach the last sips of my Tall-sized latte. I am restful and all of my senses satisfied. I gather my belongings and rise from my overly comfortable high-backed black chair. I take one last gulp of my luke-warm latte and toss it in the black metal trash can next to me. As I leave Starbucks, the cold, fresh air bites my face and hands. I want to return to the warmth and coziness of my lounge and the aromas that tingle my senses, but I instead turn the key to my car, and regress back into the real world.