Good to the Last Drop
I was talking to a friend the other day and she was telling me about her new coffee pot. Fascinating, right? Bear with me. It gets better.
She was describing the pot and the features and how you can program it to go off in the morning. She also told me how she got a new burr grinder so she is grinding her beans fresh each time. (Let’s pause here for the non-foodies who are reading. Burr grinders are considered the best when it comes to grinding coffee beans. Foodies, like me, tend to know this because we have to turn everything we eat and drink into an art form. We can’t help it. So her finer details on this whole coffee making process were not lost on me.)
So, after telling me about the logistics of setting up her coffee pot before bed, she went on to describe the sheer bliss of waking up in the morning, walking over to an already made, fresh pot of coffee, pouring herself a cup, and savoring that first sip.
Aaaaaaaah . . .
I will say that my friend is not too shabby when it comes to storytelling, so her words really got me to that place where I could feel what she was feeling. But also, I could relate. Coffee is borderline spiritual for me. No, not because I can’t get out of bed without my coffee, or because I can’t function without my coffee, or because I am useless for the first 20 minutes of the day until my coffee kicks in. None of those things have ever been true for me.
I could relate what she was saying because I love coffee. So much so that I will plan my morning around when I can best savor that first cup. I would rather have coffee at noon when I can truly enjoy it than trying to rush through a cup on my way out the door. Coffee for me is a moment.
So it got me thinking. About moments.
What is a moment? Put simply, it is a brief period of time. So with the coffee, it is not necessarily the setting it up the night before, or even pouring it in the cup in the morning. It is that first sip. That moment. The moment you created.
Our days are filled with more moments than we could count. The pleasant ones where we feel contented, grateful, at peace. The motivational ones where we feel energized, powerful, aligned. The familiar ones where we feel capable, efficient, safe. The frustrating ones where we feel overwhelmed, anxious, angry.
Whether generally fitting into these categories we tend to label “good” or “bad”, these moments can seem largely out of our control. They are our day-to-day responses to stimuli, our habits and routines, our interactions with others. We don’t have to think about it. They just happen.
The thing is, how our moments play out is largely up to us.
Said so articulately by Viktor E. Frankl:
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”
It’s true. We have so many “spaces” where we can choose our response. Maybe you know this. Maybe you forgot. Maybe this is news to you. The thing is, it’s not always easy. If you ask me, it’s almost always hard. We have a million things on our minds. Demands from every angle. Careful consideration to how we are showing up in each moment is exhausting and not always realistic. Give yourself a pat on the back. You’re doing a great job. It’s a lot. So what can we do to gain more power over our moments.
Identify them: Take inventory. Make a list of your moments. What do you love? What do you dread? What can be changed? It is easy to stay on autopilot and trudge through the day. Take some time to see if there is opportunity to make it better.
Choose them: Say yes to the things that light you up. Joy is not insignificant. Happiness matters.
Create them: Turn what you enjoy into moments. Slow down long enough to enjoy them. The coffee, the shower, the book before bed. Make them essential. Look forward to them and savor them.
Leave them: If it is reasonable to do so, remove yourself from the moments that don’t feel make you feel good. Walk away, change the channel, choose a different thought.
Ironically, I have found that savoring these joyful moments is sometimes MORE challenging when things are going smoothly, when I am happy. Maybe they just kind of all blend together. But at times in the past when I felt like I was drowning, when I felt trapped and truly sad, these moments were like air to my lungs. I clung to them. They kept me going. And in a tiny, quiet way they reminded me that I did have power, even when I couldn’t see it. It was the promise of more of those moments of contentment and peace that ultimately gave me the strength I needed to make massive change.
I remember heading to work one morning in early spring. I stepped out the door and smelled that familiar scent of spring on the way. The damp soil, the cut grass, the clean air. I inhaled deep, closed my eyes and told myself that one day soon I was going to smell that familiar scent, but in a life that was totally new. A year later, I walked out onto the deck of my first ever apartment and smelled that sweet smell of spring. I inhaled deep, closed my eyes and said “thank you.”