Coffee Cures the Blues

In a place of discouragement, sorrowfully accessing everything as terrible, I’m suddenly aware that the perfect sip of coffee just grazed my lips and passed my tongue to leave a pleasant lingering throughout my mouth. How was I able to notice this in the midst of my angst?

I’ve enjoyed a cup of coffee before in this way, but usually undistracted, my undivided attention arrested by the detection of every bold, earthy, spicy, herbal and acidic note. This is when I am purposefully in tune with all the flavors that resonate through my mouth, and I’m happy, completely satisfied with a humble cup of coffee. I’m further delighted with the simplicity of the moment.

Right now, I am preoccupied by a series of disappointments, wholly unconcerned with any such uncomplicated delight.  I’m looking at the big picture and I’m frustrated that I don’t have the sizably significant stuff of life (career, community, relationships, etc.) figured out. Yet the simple everyday pleasure of a coffee gives life a rhythm and consistency that this bigger stuff can’t always. And yet, we’re all quick to peer past these simple treasures.

As I enjoy this sip, in an unexpected moment when I am otherwise atrophied by dismay, some part of my being brings me back to the realization that it isn’t all peachy, but in these sour moments we still have coffee, we still have other things to take pleasure in. I am reminded that amidst despair there’s something favorable to be seen, experienced, or construed, and reality is never entirely awful.

This plain, non-complex, and easy to remember moment will be recollected along with another sip of coffee down the road. Hopefully then I’ll be in a place of poise and peace, and I’ll look back in a head shake thinking, “How could I have been so ardently against hope, and so sure of defeat?” Then I’ll again be amazed that something had triggered a pause in that manic moment to enjoy life.

My subconscious mind reacted to my out-of-control emotions, and I was able to quiet myself, albeit only for an instant, to be happy. The question is now: how much coffee will I need to drink to see the sun above the clouds before they pass?

How to Make the Most of a Summer in Suburbia

How does one make the most of a summer in suburbia? How does one avoid fixating on an escape?

Hmmm...Is this a word puzzle posed to gauge one's intellect? creativity? Perhaps this query could serve as a valuable test of resilience or survival skills.

I'm more than half tempted to create some obscure challenge for myself. Possibly pitch a backyard tent, feed only on the fruits of the family garden, while drawing speculatory glances and back garden wispers of the neighbors for added challenge appeal.

What else could give suburban life an unconventional edge? What tips and tricks can I devise to sustain sanity and gratitude? Knowing that complete contentment is a unicorn, I don't want to rush these days in hopes for a perfection to come.

Just when the isolation and mundanity seems to be draining of vibrancy and inspiration, I open my window to an evening breeze and crickets chirping. The sound of the suburbs: an often unidentified and underappreciated quality. I've lived in busy cities where you try to put the sounds outside your consciousness and you learn to sleep with sirens. Here (in suburbia) I have to relearn to listen. This is my greatest pleasure - a practice in stillness and a pause for awareness.