Coffee, Connection and Light

Yesterday, the world lost Dolly Parton.

I have always admired her. Not simply for her talent, generosity, humor, or even her fabulous over-the-top Dolly-ness, but because she seemed to know who she was.

And she stayed connected to her.

People could make fun of her appearance, underestimate her, disagree with her, praise her, adore her, criticize her—and somehow Dolly remained Dolly.

Her roots ran deep.

 

 

Yesterday I found myself signing off social media posts with Be like Dolly.

I don’t mean wear rhinestones and big hair, although I certainly wouldn’t discourage it.

I mean know yourself well enough that the world doesn’t get to decide who you are.

Know what you believe. Remember where you came from. Let your experiences add wisdom without requiring you to become hardened by them. Be willing to change and grow without abandoning yourself in the process.

I’ve been thinking a lot about connection lately.

And perhaps one of the most important connections we ever make is the one we have with ourselves.

Almost two years ago, my heart was broken and I felt a little lost.

So instead of allowing myself to be swallowed alive, I went looking for other light givers to help me remember how to shine. I asked:

 

Coffee?

 

I set off to meet people I enjoyed on Facebook. Some I knew but hadn’t seen in years, and in a few cases, over a decade. Many I had never met before and only knew through Facebook.

A couple were relatively close by, but most of them required me to travel 30, 40, 50 miles and more.

I don’t regret one coffee date.

Some of those women have become treasured friends. Others and I remain connected through Facebook, and that’s perfectly okay.

Maybe that’s something else I’ve learned about connection.

It doesn’t have to become anything other than what it is.

I saw a post from a newer Facebook friend recently that said she had decided to no longer call it intuition but wisdom—or something close to that.

I still very much believe in intuition. I think for some of us it’s like a superpower. But I also honor the wisdom I have gained over the yeeeaaars.

One of my greatest awarenesses is that I don’t retreat into what’s always been.

Instead, I open my heart and my mind and get curious about what could be.

Or I ask myself:

Teresa, what do you want to experience moving forward?

Nothing has to be as presented.

 

 

 

Unfortunately, we don’t always have tomorrow.

There was one elusive Facebook friend with whom I shared many friends because she was in our networking groups, but at different times.

It’s all connected like a web, isn’t it?

She had moved to the Phoenix area, but she was planning to come back to Dallas, Oregon, in the fall, and we were excited to finally meet in real life over coffee.

Shortly after making our plan over Facebook, I learned she had been pretty ill and was soon diagnosed with two different cancers.

For the last thirteen months, she fought for life.

She is Light.

 

You could see it in her kind and loving posts. In the way her husband shared updates about her, his words filled with so much love. In the pictures she shared spending time with her daughter.

Ugh.

In the modern form of the newspaper obituary, I learned through a Facebook post from her husband that she had transitioned from this lifetime.

I find myself getting curious about that sentence.

I believe my Mom is light transferred—that she is still here and everywhere.

I look into the stars and I see her.

I have twinkle lights all over my house, inside and out. During the darker months, I prefer ambient lighting to overhead.

It’s in the darkness that light shines the brightest.

Could it be that simple?

 

My Facebook friend and I will never be able to sit across from each other over coffee, but somehow I know she would have become one of those closer friends.

And yet, we were connected.

Her life touched mine.

Her death has prompted me to ask myself:

Would I like more coffee dates? More connections? More opportunities to expand into all that I can imagine?

Yes.

I love that I have special memories of the people I meet and that each one adds something to my coat of many colors.

I hear you, Dolly.

 

For the better part of 2025, I drove to or through Portland every Tuesday and Thursday to work around my other appointments.

Over the last year, my coffee dates have decreased quite a bit.

I’ve started inviting women to my home instead.

That seemed odd at first, but why?

Maybe connection doesn’t always require me to go somewhere.

Maybe sometimes I open the door.

Or perhaps it’s because an unexpected project was quietly taking form and asking for more of my attention.

It was seeded many months ago, and it’s about time to share it with the world.

It is lovely and beautiful and curious and mysterious, and it was born from every soul I’ve met, every tear I’ve cried, every belly laugh that’s made me grab my stomach.

All these seemingly separate pieces of a life.

 

Connected.

 

Hmmm.

Maybe it’s not a coincidence that harvest season is just around the corner.

 

Life continues living.

 

It is time for abundance.

 

There is still coffee to drink.

There are still people to meet.

There are still invitations to extend.

There are still things inside us asking to be brought into the world.

 

And…

Coffee anyone?