Extra Whipped Cream

When a piece of you has been hidden, locked away for many years, it almost seems as if it doesn’t exist. It is stuffed down, shut down and hidden within our carefully constructed, protected lives. We can live life, work, raise kids, laugh at jokes, run a marathon and start a business and this hidden part is not visible to anyone else. 

Or is it?

I stood in line at a coffee shop as I watched a woman demonstrate this very point.

She ordered a hot drink with layers of whipping cream on top. I observed her physical appearance. She was in good shape, toned biceps flexed as she balanced a bag over her forearm and held her phone in the other hand. Her hairstyle was carefully maintained and perfectly in place. The makeup style looked tense as if a stiff formulaic system (not joy) had helped her decide what shade for that time of day.

As the line formed behind me (waiting to order) and behind her (waiting to receive the drink), she began to get more agitated. The barista called her name and seeing her approach the counter, handed her the drink with a smile. She said ‘thank you’ and took the drink in her hand, the whip cream melted down the edge of the cup and onto her hand. She gasped and THREW the foamy, rich whipped cream hot drink down on the ground, splashing those around her and then demanded a new one.

I gasped. I couldn’t believe she did that, I couldn’t believe the staff scurried to clean up and I couldn’t believe the barista made her a new one!! I thought she needed to be banned from the coffee shop and made to apologize. But no, frowning people quietly brushed the drink splashes off their clothes, staff mopped the floor and the barista made another whip creamed drink for her. She stormed out this time, to the relief of all standing by.

So I guess, we learn what? That small drops of warm, sweet whipped cream are not to be tolerated? Nope. We learn that this woman is probably living in high tension about something. She responds to a small inconvenience with a HUGE reaction. She endangers others with her coffee throw down. She is rude and disrespectful to others. But what else might be happening? Who is she getting the coffee for? A boss? A boyfriend? Herself? What does mess or stickiness mean to her? What is her history of throwing things when she gets mad? Or where has she witnessed someone demonstrating this same behaviour?

Either we deal with our stuff or our stuff deals with us.

We carry our unprocessed trauma and pain around like a book bag that’s just too full. It bumps into things, bruises others and our shins as we lug it down and then back up onto our back. We can’t just leave it behind. It comes with us. We all have stuff and depending on the stage of life, we have small or large amounts of emotional and mental energy to look at the stuff and work through it. But no matter what stage of life we’re in, let’s be attentive to what we are carrying around, how it affects us and how it can splash those around us, creating a mess that we really did not intend on making.

If you need help finding a counselor in your area, or want some good book recommendations, let me know!