a peek inside the fishbowl

I’ve been pondering this New York Times article since I first read it. I really like the idea of breakfast serving as an opportunity for a mini-mediation. Of course, you can do this in the car, or while walking the dog, or brushing your teeth, but somehow, doing it in the morning like this seems to be a fitting way to start a day.

I don’t have silent breakfasts because this is the time that I catch up with the news of the day, but I do have a silent coffee.

This part of the article is soooo relatable. I feel like this person has looked inside my brain:

I couldn’t concentrate, so I let my mind run wild through its litany of worries and reminders. Then, like a toddler wearing herself out after a tantrum, my thoughts quieted down. After several days of silent breakfast, I started to hear myself. My concerns and thoughts, happy with their time at the soapbox, stepped back and stopped plaguing me first thing in the morning. I could focus on what was in front of me, without guilt, without obligation, without stress. It was an unusual feeling of freedom.

When I get up it’s still dark. What motivates me to do things I don’t want to do is TREATS. (Seriously.) I leave the warmth of my duvet knowing there is coffee. Mark bought me a very good conical burr grinder awhile back and we buy good beans to fill it with. I grind the coffee fresh every morning and make myself a double espresso with a dash of cream. I drink it on the couch while looking at a candle that I light when I first come downstairs. This ritual is free of devices and interruptions. I am alone with my thoughts. It is my luxurious, silent, coffee. It is so calming. I think about how delicious my coffee is, and how grateful I am to be drinking such delicious coffee. Of course, my mind wanders, but it’s only doing what it’s supposed to do. When unwanted thoughts intrude – as they do – I acknowledge them and set them aside… because what’s more important than this coffee right now? (The answer is nothing. Nothing is more important.)

I know it sounds very woo-woo but the candle actually helps me focus on all of this. (Also, it makes me happy to use my candles. What have I been saving them for all this time?)

I used to use my desktop SAD lamp every morning this time of year, but I don’t seem to need it anymore. Maybe this coffee/yoga/treadmill ritual is a substitute for that on some biological level? I don’t know.

Of course, the huge disclaimer here is that I wasn’t able to enjoy a silent coffee until much later in life. When there are kids in the house, a silent breakfast or coffee might seem downright impossible. I think about that all the time.