Saying Goodbye

I enjoy it. For me it’s more of a routine, it’s a ritual and an experience–a moment of silent bliss. Grinding the beans, pouring the hot water…waiting…pressing the grounds down to reveal a deep, rich, aromatic liquid. Coffee is a way to connect with my mind, check in and relax. It’s an opportunity to connect with someone else, it’s a tool to bring people together and get things done–or not. It’s a way to kill an hour before work or relax after a stressful day. The mug warms your hands and perks you up, as the steam gently rises it can fog your glasses and the smell takes over your senses and a feeling of joy can take over.

 

This is direct quote from my journal while sitting at Rowster’s in Grand Rapids this past Saturday. A conversation with my older brother is what inspired it. A conversation about quitting coffee. If you know me, you know I have a love for it. Hell, I have a tattoo that depicts my love for the stuff. So why on earth would I consider quitting?! My brother, who he himself has quit many vices and is a better person for it, thinks it will help me. Help me sleep better (kinda a ‘duh’), help me be more productive (I’m skeptical of this one,) help my moods, my skin and he listed many many other reason why I should quit.

So I’m going to quit coffee for three months.

I repeat. I am going to quit coffee for the time being.

They say (not sure who ‘they’ are…) say that it takes three months for a given substance to be ridded of your body. I’m going to journal about it, listen to my body, mind, soul and productivity. I’m going to attempt to blog (and not complain,) about it. I’m going to try and not take up any other addictions in this process. Right now my ONLY addiction is coffee.

An apology in advance: if you’re my facebook friend, REAL life friend or snap chat buddy I’m apologizing NOW for whining, maybe crying and probably sniffing your coffee if you consume it in front of me. I’m dreading the headaches and already missing my routine. If anyone has any good tea suggestions (decaf of course) I would love to hear them.

 

Wish me luck. Follow me on here and join me on this…sigh…journey as I say goodbye.

 

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A New Definition on Necessity

I’m having a hard time connecting. I remember in college going shopping and finding cute clothes that I wanted, trying them on, buying them, loving them for the shear idea that they were cute. A new purse, earrings, jeans…etc., all of these things didn’t mean anything to me besides the fact that they fit, they looked nice or they accessorized my life a bit more. I’ve lost that.

            Recently, I truly only buy most things out of necessity. Well, I mean, necessity used in a loosely translated way—I suppose I don’t absolutely need a new candle or book, but both of these things brighten my day and help me pass the time with out turning on the television, helps me learn, and makes my room smell delicious. So necessity is what I buy for.

            I’ve been on the hunt for a new purse lately. I have one great, leather purse that I bought in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I love it. I cherish it, it’s something that I will literally have forever. I met the man that sewed it together and hand picked the hardware that goes so perfectly with the construction. This bag has a story. When I go to the store, the mall, Target, I don’t feel anything when I see the bags there. I see them as cheap, wrinkly, pieces of fabric that won’t do anything for me. So I wander the earring section—looking for a new pair of dangly earrings that might give me that bit of rush because of that instant, quick purchase. All I end up seeing are pieces of plastic that realistically, make me kind of sad sitting there on the shelf.

            The earrings that I bought in Vietnam were hand made by a tribes woman’s father. I spent all day with this woman. They wear the same pairs that I bought from their hands. The bracelet I wear (and haven’t taken off since) was given to me by the same hilltribe woman in Sapa, Vietnam, same with my ring. These pieces of jewelry have soul, have memories. They have stories. Even my silly costume jewelry has a memory of wandering Kao San Road at midnight while I dodged tourist eating fried scorpions and I haggle with the shopkeepers in broken Thai.

 

I’m down to necessity and stories. But even, the word necessity is being stretched. I like having little. And the little that I have have stories that I love to tell.

 

 

 

Necessity: wanting or needing something that will make your life a bit easier, more comfortable, fun or exciting.

            Example: a new book, some lush lotion or a new sports bra in a fun color.

A lovely smelling candle while I read my book is a necessity.

 

 ImageBelow: Thai costume jewelry. Above: Vietnamese ring

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