Coffee in the Morning

I realize now that it's become a commonplace ritual for many of us to have coffee. Perhaps, it's been that way for a long time. But I notice that my day feels somewhat incomplete if I don't have that first cup of coffee in the morning. I may not always eat breakfast but I literally never forget to have a bit of coffee once I wake up. Sure, in the past I have had coffee at all times of the day before but for some reason, the morning cup seems to make all the difference.

I don't know what power coffee in the morning has but it's akin to reading the morning newspaper. If you're anything like some of my family members, perhaps you wake up very early before it gets too warm and sit outside on your patio in a meditative state with that fresh cup. For me, the promise of a perfect cup and morning cartoons were my main motivators. They still are.

I suppose it's something of a tradition in my family to sit together and have coffee in the morning. Of course, this tradition stuck with me well past my high school days and college. It got me thinking about associations we have with many foods or drinks. For me, there's something comforting and natural about that cup of coffee in the AM. Now that I'm on my own, it's my daily ritual--and it's time to create new food and drink associations. Seasons and tastes change--this season I hope to try new things. I don't know that I'd ever give up my morning coffee but perhaps, I can segue into afternoon teas! Who knows?

Passionate Preservation

I have been thinking a lot about how often we archive information, sculptures, art, writings, and produce literature and accounts of those from years past. There is something to be said about those history classes we have taken. A lot of stories are told from the perspective of the victors. I wondered how much was watered down or sugar-coated or embellished for the purpose of looking better in the long run. I have been fascinated by cultures, languages, folklore, and mythology since an early age. I realize now that my interests lie in the fact that it teaches us many important lessons. We've heard the old saying that "history repeats itself" but we have to ask ourselves--does it have to? Is there some way we can avoid that or keep it from happening too often? Is history doomed to repeat itself because it's an inevitable factor in shaping our future?

These thoughts led me to study the past more often. Some people think it's dangerous to be so absorbed in the past when the present requires attention. It's absolutely crucial to be present but it's just as crucial to learn from the past. A lot of what was accomplished in society as humans has to do with our predecessors. They learned through experience and mistakes, through trial and error. But as individuals, this is far more challenging. This is one of the biggest hurdles I've ever had to face and continue to face. Mistakes are the things that have constantly haunted me. If I wasn't living in the past or wallowing in self-misery over what happened, I was always worrying about the future. I was never truly present. I am slowly learning now to be aware of myself in the present, to recognize and acknowledge that the past is the past--and to not concern myself with what will be---to get out of the land of the what ifs.

In studying what I have, I realize there is so much more to learn from the past: the languages we spoke, the dreams we wove and shared, the incredible inventions we created, and the way we changed and continue to change.We have come a long way as a species. It's really something when I sit down to think about it and imagine how different life used to be, and what it is today. Humanity has done a lot in a short amount of time. We don't think of ourselves necessarily as a young species but we certainly are in many respects. It's a fascinating subject to study for sure. History will continue to move us, shape us, but it can show us the way to do things properly too.

Bittersweet

Beginnings and endings are transitions that seem to be a constant in life. Yet there are some that affect us more than others, so much so that it inhibits our abilities to use clear judgment when needed. We can all relate to moving to different places if that has happened in our lives. I certainly have moved around in my life. In fact, the images of each one of those moves are still with me. I see it now: The boxes are all packed and duck-taped neatly. The more delicate items have been cushioned properly and double-boxed if necessary. The clothes are in a variety of bags and suitcases. The entire place looks barren without the furniture or decorations around. The trucks have been loaded. The memories linger in the emptiness and silence within those walls; some good, some terrible, and others just mundane past-times.

It is May of 2018 now. A lot has changed. Roughly three years ago--I was getting ready to move into my new place. I was at long last entering the phase of being a homeowner. I remember the excitement and preparation that went into it: all the paper work, the phone calls, the changes, the hunting for properties, the inspection after selecting one, putting in an offer, and so on. Then came moving day where bit by bit, I began taking my belongings over there. I had to assemble an IKEA bed with family members, along with some other furniture. I remember battling the army of ants that took over my kitchen and bathroom (they made a return last month with another ensuing battle on my part). It's surreal to think that I used to live there for almost three years. It's a somewhat bittersweet memory. I was leaving my old home--one that I'd gotten so accustomed to that I wasn't ready to be in a new bed--a place that I'd not been familiar with before. Yet I left. And now having returned to headquarters aka the place I know best, it's come full circle. I am still a homeowner though a landlord now. It was a decision that was deemed the most logical and wise at this point. It is odd to feel like I'm back where I started but perhaps that is where my journey will go.

It was the end of my old life when I moved out, and the start of a new one, and having moved again back to old surroundings, it's no longer the same. It's still a new chapter. Change is inevitable. It just is. And if you're stubborn like me, you'll try to fight the change. You'll try to fight your nature. You'll try to make excuses to get out of things. But that the change will happen. The transformation will have already begun before you're even aware, and if you don't allow it to occur organically--the more painful and difficult these transitions get. I should know. I still find it an uphill fight some days when I set my expectations in the realm of "highly unlikely" and "forcing it doesn't work". It's not to say that I don't have goals. However, I now always remind myself not to attach specific outcomes to them as I have in the past. I leave you with another cliche as last time: Do your best, and leave the rest.