Confessions logo

Pondering Aging as I Sit in A Colombian Coffee Shop

I ordered a hot chocolate with leche deslactosada (lactose-free milk) at the local bakery.

By sara burdickPublished 3 months ago 4 min read
Not the town I am in, but a small one I visited, just a cool photo!

As I sat down, a few looks from the locals drifted my way. This is not uncommon, as I am an outsider. When you stray off the usual route that most tourists take, you will stick out like a sore thumb, no matter how hard you try to blend it.

I, however, do not try to blend in.

I instead act like I belong, and no one questions or bothers me. I pulled out a book one of my YouTube subscribers gave me, and she was right: I like it.

I sat and waited for my hot chocolate since I am still not a coffee drinker. Why drink coffee when I can have chocolate?

I tried some black coffee last week when I was on a farm with my friends, and nope, no way, no how. I finished the cup and didn’t sleep that night, so no, thank you.

An Aromatica or chocolate is my new go-to hot morning drink, preferably with no sugar.

As I sat and read my book, a few more looks came my way.

Many travelers complain about being stared at in a foreign country; it doesn’t phase me; a few say good morning. I am sure they are curious about how I ended up in their small town, which only has two or three hotels.

My room is 35k pesos per night, which is about 8.50, private room and bathroom. When I checked in before I paid, the lady told me there was a group of students there, and it would be loud.

I know she said this because this hotel has a rating of 6.8, and she most likely does not want the ¨gringa¨ leaving a bad review.

I will not; it is precisely what I expected for the price I paid.

I will leave them a 10 to hopefully boost their ratings. Honesty, I like the loudness of the headphones I have. Also, they are all talking in very rapid Spanish, so I am not distracted by their conversations.

Yet, as I sat in the coffee shop, I appreciated that I had finally entered a climate where I could wear a dress.

I forgot my hat, and when I got home, I worried I might have gotten too much sun, even though I had applied a ton of sunscreen. I think that is part of getting older.

I usually wear a hat everywhere; the locals wear long sleeves, an umbrella, and a hat. No one wants the sun on their faces; mine is for my vanity of wrinkle prevention.

I want to delay the inevitable aging of my skin for as long as possible, but as I am an outdoors person, I will eventually accept the consequences of being blessed to age.

The thoughts of aging increase as my birthday approaches, even though I do not celebrate as I do not believe in age or time. I will be here for as long as I am meant to be, a pre-determined choice.

Sometimes, I wonder about those who die young.

They will be forever young in our memories. It’s a bit morbid, but I often think of my parents as young and never aged, preserved in time in my memories as young and vibrant — no signs of slowing down until they did.

I am living, and with living comes growing mind, body, and spirit. An old sage looks old and wise because they have lived a long life. Yet I am not sure I am ready for that; I first have to have my house deep in the woods and scare little children who come near.

I’m kidding; I would never do that, but I have always loved the riddles about witches living deep in the woods; it has always brought curiosity to me about who they are and what magic they can perform.

My tarot confirmed I need to go deep within, which comes as the years pass. A desire for more, but why? Who knows? The more I think I know, the more I realize how little I know.

I have not been writing; the thoughts in my head are running laps around my brain. They come out in a jumble, such as untangling tubing after a patient is received in the ICU from the ER, a.k .a. a MESS!

I will think clearly once they are labeled and placed in their appropriate spot.

Is there a point?

Is there ever, besides breathing in and out, proving that we are still alive and an asteroid has not yet destroyed us? We survived the Taurid Meteor shower once again.

Oh, I am in Moniquirá, Colombia, headed toward Antioquia for the holidays. I spent the past week on a farm, and those stories are sitting in a draft as I slowly get back into the practice of my daily online diary.




About the Creator

sara burdick

I quit the rat race after working as a nurse for 16 years. I now write online and live abroad, currently Nomading, as I search for my forever home. Personal Stories, Travel and History

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.