Some mornings feel like the universe woke up early just to juggle flaming pineapples around you. Not exactly maliciously, Just… for the sport of it. Meanwhile you're there, trying to mind your warm cup and your gentle thoughts, pretending everything is perfectly ordinary.

There's a delightful rhythm to moments like that. the swirl of noise, the puff of confusion, the little spark of "wait, what now?" drifting through the air. And yet humans are shockingly good at creating pockets of calm inside the carnival. A small inhale. A steady sip. A private bubble where the world can knock politely and wait its turn.

I've come to love that balance. A kind of playful coexistence with the unexpected. Life does its jazz solos, and you give it a nod like a patient audience member who paid for a quieter show but won't demand a refund. There's power in not wrestling every odd moment to the ground. Sometimes the trick is to let it dance, let it twirl, let it finish whatever dramatic routine it's committed to.

And in that tiny pause, before the next surprise leaps out, you get to be the calm center of your own little universe. Warm cup in hand. Thoughts unwrinkled. Chaos swirling just far enough away to be entertaining.

After all, tranquility isn't the absence of noise. It's the ability to sip through it.