First Cup

For this soul there's nothing so grounding as that first cup of java in the morning. Coffee takes the edge off, floats me just off-center from the gritty reality of a day-to-day existence. And, let me make this clear: I'm talking Coffee, not that Dunkin' Donuts watered down joke of an excuse for coffee. I mean The Real Bean, dark, ground to a powder, lovingly filtered, cup by heavenly cup with boiling hot water. I'd sooner go without for a day than to take a trip to Dumpin' Do-not. If you ever see me at one, please, shoot me.

It's not that I'm trying to deny my existence with this worship of The Cup. I appreciate the events and characters that color my life: the hardships, the losses, the successes, the challenges, my wife and children. But, a very strong cup of black coffee offers an escape from this ADD mind. And, as my cousin once pointed out, at least I know my limit: when I'm throwing up all over my date's lap I know it's time to stop!

Coffee is ritual. I've shared so many good times and conversations over a cup of coffee. Some mornings, especially those where I'm missing my brother (he committed suicide nearly a year ago, was my best friend and soul mate), I pull out one of his favorite mugs, filter the coffee directly into it, and am instantly transported to a time where he's pouring a cup for me in his kitchen. Ahh, the aroma! Jeff and I go sit in the living room, philosophize, talk about anything, have a few laughs. When he gets up to pour another cup he doesn't need to ask. He knows I'd like another please.

Some of my more memorable cups have been prepared in times of hardship: Stormbound at 26,000 feet on Everest back in '99 I was sure that I'd run out of coffee. Our tent was a total mess. It was all we could do to get outside for nature's call without being blown over. We'd endured nearly three days of 80+ mph winds, two of us inside, almost out of food and picking through the tea for something, anything appealing to consume. One last look through the zip-lock bag and there it is, the telltale tiny blue square, signaling the last of the Maxwell House mini-filter coffees. (Hey, it's Everest. Cut me some slack!) Now THAT was a cup a' joe!

I'm not suggesting that coffee is the path to happiness. Even so, it's quite possible that it is: so much satisfaction in such a little container! We each have our ways to get through the day. Before my brother committed suicide I might've found fault with someone who smoked too much, had some destructive addiction or another. But, if something helps you get through the day, it can be a positive in your life. That philosophy is sound, so long as you're looking deep inside for answers, not escaping just for escaping's sake. We're all on a path. Some of us just need a little help now and then.

I'm two cups down so far this morning. The way I look at things, my Thermos is half full.

And, maybe somewhere near the bottom, is nirvana...