7 Cups Of Coffee

Preface

It is inevitable: one day, the tower will come crashing down around you. Your foundation, shaken to its very core. In a single moment, the life you have built—and the future you thought was certain—falls away.

        What remains after the collapse is an overwhelming need to understand. There is a hunger to open, a desperation to find faith—the kind you may have searched for year after year.

        Your dreams and ideas about the future shatter. Suddenly, there is nothing left but space and time. There is nothing left but tears that even your soul cannot explain. You stand there, surrounded by memories that feel like ghosts—fragments of a life that no longer fits.

        You begin to question:
What is real in my life?
What is simply a projection of the pain I’ve buried inside?
Have I forgotten how to live in the present?
Have I forgotten what it feels like to laugh—to be alive?

        The mind takes over, quietly. It builds a prison—not of iron bars, but of self-doubt, mistrust, and half-truths. Inside this prison, gratitude becomes invisible. Emotion becomes unbearable.

        Facing the unknown—facing our fears—is a brutal task when we walk alone. But that’s when the soul begins to stir. It whispers, keep going. It pushes us toward our truth, peeling away ego and illusion, inviting us to discover what we are made of.

        The steps forward are painful. They are slow. Like walking in shoes that don’t fit—too tight, too small, not made for the journey. And still, we walk.

        Each step aches—not just in the body, but in the heart. The heart begins to shut down, not out of weakness, but as a defense. Until we are finally forced to sit with what’s inside.

        We sit in the dark. We watch our ideals crumble. We ask for a sign—was this collapse for a reason? We pray that it meant something—that it was the beginning of something deeper: a journey back to the soul.

        And then one day…

        You wake up different.

        You feel stronger. Strong enough to begin clearing the debris—the remnants of the tower, the pieces of your former self. You face the wreckage with new eyes. You see not ruin, but invitation. The burdens that once crushed you are now gone. You remember that you are more than this moment. You are bigger than your fear.

        That’s when you begin to overcome. That’s when you start to rise.

        In the darkest times, we search for the sunshine. And eventually—the sunshine appears.

        And for the first time in a long time, you look in the mirror… and you finally see your face.