What draws me to a perfect cup of coffee? When I see a steaming cup, anywhere; a restaurant, on TV, through a window of a coffee shop, I feel compelled to have one myself.
Something about seeing that steaming cup in my hands screams comfort in ways other things can’t compare to.
During times of extreme cold, like just after shoveling snow, it warms me from the inside out. In times of decision making or deep thought, a cup spurs me on, sip after each delicious sip, to delve into places I maybe haven’t gone before.
When sharing with a friend, I hardly remember drinking, but my cup is empty, many times, my heart is full and I’m left with a smile on my face.
During times of intense waiting, like at the hospital or for a much long-expected phone call, that steaming cup settles me down, helps clear my head and warm my belly, helping me to feel hopeful and that all will be well.
During times of grief, that steaming cup warms my hands and a little bit of my soul. Sip after sip, reminding me that tomorrow comes. And the day after that and the day after that. That steaming cup reminds me to move along, keep going, better days ahead.
I have tried to always look at my cup as half full. Some days that is really hard. But one more cup of coffee surely can’t hurt anything.
So the perfect cup of coffee is always the one I have in my hands, right then.
Wow, beautiful thoughts!