**When the Universe Hands You a Latte (And a Lesson)**
9:03 AM—Ethan slid my coffee across the counter today—black, splash of oat milk, no foam art. But this time, instead of his usual smirk or soft "rough night?", he just nodded at me. "You look… settled."
I blinked. Settled? Me? The girl who used to panic if her sketchbook had a single blank page?
But then I realized—he was right.
Because here’s what I’m learning today: Sometimes growth isn’t about the big shifts. It’s about the quiet moments when you realize you’re not the same person you were yesterday.
My sketchbook is open to a page with a single stitch sample—just a scrap of fabric pinned messily to the paper. No grand design, no five-year plan. Just a texture I liked. A month ago, I would’ve called that lazy. Today? It feels like a small act of trust—in myself, in the process, in the universe’s timing.
Here’s where the lesson lands:
1. I’m not afraid of stillness anymore. Liam texted last night—"You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?"—and instead of over-explaining, I just sent: "Yeah. Just listening for a change." No guilt. No rush to fill the silence. It’s wild how much calmer that feels.
2. My creativity doesn’t need to prove anything. That scrap of fabric? It doesn’t do anything yet. It’s just… there. And that’s enough. I used to treat every idea like it had to earn its place in my portfolio. Now? I’m learning to let things exist before they mean something.
3. I’m starting to love the ordinary. October in LA is all about slow, golden mornings—no dramatic changes, just the same sun, the same coffee, the same Ethan behind the counter. But today, for the first time, I noticed: The ordinary is where the magic builds. The quiet is where the growth happens.
Ethan just handed someone a latte with a perfect foam leaf. Old me would’ve taken it personally—"Why not me?" Today? I sip my plain coffee and smile. The universe gives you what you need, not always what you think you want.
Sometimes growth is realizing the lesson was in the latte all along.
xx Mandy
(P.S. That scrap of fabric? Still just a scrap. And for once, I’m not in a hurry to turn it into anything else.)