a caffeinated romance

When I first wake to the fading pastels of dawn, when the chill of the dark is still settled on the world, before I can even begin to think about my day, I reach for my sultry Sumatran lover. I wrap myself around this radiating warmth as my senses awaken one by one. Oh how I love the full body, dark and rich, with just the right amount of sweet. I am not the only one taking solace in this strength each morning, and I do not mind. Millions share our passion and understand my need. They are lining up at Starbucks and in break rooms to embrace in routine rendezvous. I am referring, of course, to coffee. Also known lovingly as mud, sludge, rocket fuel, java, or plain ol’ cuppa joe. Just like me, people worldwide have found themselves immersed in this caffeinated romance.

And who can blame us? Like a Siren’s song, its robust aroma pulls you in, but not to rocky cliffs, instead into warm inviting kitchens and trendy coffeehouses. For centuries this seemingly simple little seed has stimulated the world. Stimulating global trade, starting from Arabia, going to Italy and radiating around the world. Stimulating our bodies, driving the workforce of the planet—construction workers, scientists, white-collar executives. Stimulating the creative minds of students, of artists, of inventors. It even inspired Johan Sebastian Bach to write a “Coffee Cantata.”

It is undeniable that there is something special about coffee. Its presence is found in religious realms, not only gaining notoriety amongst certain Christian and Muslim branches, but being exalted in religious rites and indigenous folklore. Its complexity and diversity has given a home to the brooding counter-culture of the beatnik, and birthed the social status associated with, say, a Venti Triple Half-caf Skinny Macchiato with Light Foam. Yet its simplicity has facilitated the dating game, alleviating the stress of a dinner date with it’s non-committal counterpart “Let’s grab a coffee sometime.”

Coffee is the proverbial ‘man for all seasons’ generously igniting the flame that starts each day, rekindling it with an afternoon pick me up, and giving fodder for a fire burning late into the night. It is as casual as a quick sip and a chat in the break room, as fun as a frozen treat for midsummer swelter, and as sophisticated as a layered cappuccino served with a silver spoon. Coffee has given selflessly to the world, and to me. I can honestly say that without coffee, I would not be here today—I would still be asleep in bed.

a short essay on productivity

    Becoming a mother has epitomized the word “productive” for the last five years of my life.  Ask any parent and they will likely tell you that having a child is, by far, their hardest yet most rewarding accomplishment.  On the surface it seems so idyllic, one more part of the American Dream, but really, it’s a messy job at best.  During the course of a typical day I spend much time trying to get something, anything done--trying to feel productive--but what it comes down to is simply trying to keep up with the two adorable, counterproductive, tornadoes I call my boys.
    One could say that this recent phase of productivity has my world turned upside down, however, I’m a “glass half full” kind of person, so I will say it finally turned things right-side up.  It redefined so many aspects of life, from loving and giving, to being and doing.  I gave up opportunities to be productive in other ways and in their place found a love that is so easy to give and receive, yet that makes me want to work harder than ever to cultivate it.  I gained new perspective on being: being mindful, patient, forgiving, and being in the moment, which they have taught me is invaluable.  And last but not least, it redefined “doing” which is a list a million miles long; a daunting task, even to the most super-human, vacuum-toting, apron-heels-and-lipstick wearing, Stepford Wife. I have added to that interminable to-do list a part-time job (sometimes two), volunteer work, and, now, a college degree with aspirations of a career.
   So, sometimes being productive is a real, tangible thing, noted (unglamorously, I might add) by clothing washed, bills paid, groceries procured, and meals prepared.  Mostly, though, I have found it to be abstractly measured in toys mended, owies kissed, noses wiped, morning hugs and kisses good night.  I still have goals and dreams, most notably my education and career.  I still aspire to better the status quo, at least for my little corner of the world.  And, I will keep checking things off of my to-do list.  But for me,  for now, my most productive days are those that I survive until bedtime, where I tuck in those precious little bodies tired from doing what they do best-- giving me a reason to be productive.