There’s a kind of magic that doesn’t need candles or incantations, rituals or sacred symbols. It’s a magic that happens quietly, in the moments we often overlook—the lightness of a shared smile, the comfort of a hand on a shoulder, or the warmth of a hug that feels like home. Every Sunday afternoon at Grounds for Coffee on Harrison Blvd, I’m reminded of just how powerful this magic can be.
For a few hours each week, a small group of us—kindred spirits bound by more than just a diagnosis of bipolar disorder—gather together. We sit, sip coffee, play games, and make art. It sounds simple, right? Maybe even ordinary. But beneath the surface, there’s a quiet, profound energy that fills the room. It’s the kind of magic that transforms a public coffee shop into a sanctuary—a place where we don’t just meet, but where we truly connect.
A Space of Light and Power
Every time I sit in that space, I can feel it: the power of connection, the lightness that comes from being with people who get it. It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced the deep isolation that mental illness can bring—the way it convinces you that you’re alone, that no one can understand. Yet, here we are, sitting together every Sunday, proving that story wrong.
What strikes me most is the ease with which we’ve all grown into this network of support. There’s something incredible about watching people—some of whom have spent years battling their own minds, often feeling disconnected from the world—begin to reach out to each other. We laugh together. We hug. We share our stories, sometimes lighthearted, sometimes heavy. And we hold space for each other, not out of obligation, but because we’ve all been there before. We’ve all needed someone, and we know how it feels when no one shows up. So, now, we show up.
More Than Just a Meet-Up
These meet-ups didn’t start with some grand plan. In fact, it all began with a single person who, in one of our therapy groups, finally said what so many of us had been feeling: “I need support.”
That simple statement sparked something in us. Without even discussing it beforehand, we rallied around her. We didn’t care about disrupting the group or what was expected of us in that setting. We just knew that she needed us, and we were going to be there. After group, we met up in the parking lot, stood in the cool air for an hour and a half, and decided right then and there that we needed to create a space where this kind of support could continue.
It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t planned—it just happened. And that, I think, is the magic of it.
We all had been thinking about creating something like this, but none of us knew how to begin. It wasn’t until someone voiced the need for support that everything clicked. She got the hugs she needed. She got others sharing their own stories of bipolar relapses. She got phone numbers, real connections, and was told—genuinely—to reach out anytime. And we all meant it. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
The Gift of Showing Up
What we’ve created goes beyond just a weekly social event. We’ve built a community where showing up isn’t just something we say—it’s something we do. We show up for each other in ways that many of us never thought possible. Whether it’s offering a ride to an appointment, talking someone down from an emotional ledge, or simply being there to listen, we’ve become the kind of support system that so many of us were convinced didn’t exist.
It’s new, and it’s odd—this feeling of trust, of actually having people to lean on. But it’s also one of the most amazing gifts we could have ever given ourselves and each other. And it’s a gift we want to share with others.
Join Us in the Magic
If you’re reading this, and you’ve ever felt like you needed that kind of connection, you’re not alone. If you’ve ever longed for a space where you can just be—where you’re accepted, supported, and understood—we’re here. Our Sunday meet-ups are open to anyone who needs a little bit of light, laughter, and human connection. Even if it’s your first time joining us, you’ll find that we’re all just people, navigating life’s challenges together, one cup of coffee at a time.
You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t even have to be okay. Just show up. We’ll be there, and we’ll be waiting with open arms.
