Today, I decided not to just drink my morning coffee, sipping it mindlessly while reading email and the news, my mind flitting about elsewhere, until it was cool enough to swig it fast. I chose instead another path. I decided to actually savor it.
I vividly imagined the coffee bean fields in Costa Rica where I once walked under the hot mid day sun while nature was imbuing the plants with the magic they could one day share with me in that morning cup, if I would just let them. I felt the warmth of the ceramic mug in my hand. I watched the steam curl up from the dark surface of that worldly elixir, faithful friend and companion on late nights and early mornings, and I allowed myself to experience slowly and deeply what I most often hardly notice. There's viscosity, mouth feel, aroma, and flavor just awaiting our notice. There's warmth to enliven and coax us into the new day.
So. The morning's coffee woke me up in a new way. It roused my senses and parts of my brain that had been dormant, not just since I fell asleep hours before, but since I gained the habit, too long ago, of not noticing the many small and wonderful things around me. I decided to take a break from the hypnotic trance that governs too much of our lives.
And I think the coffee approved. It may have even been proud of me. I had never noticed that before.
