Life is too short for bad coffee

September 6, 2013

tastes. so. good.

tastes. so. good.

Which is what I told myself this morning, when I made the coffee, starting a new bag of the good stuff before the old bag of the yuck stuff was done.

And I deserve good coffee. I need good coffee. I can feel my brain straining in anticipation as the water boils, the aroma wafts out at me…

I deserve good coffee. I do my work, I pay my taxes, I volunteer, I donate, I play my part, I deserve this, I tell myself, trying desperately not to think of the places and people in my world who need so much more than coffee.

But I deserve this, I need this. I need my coffee to start the day, to set the tone to signal the start of another day of moving, moving through the world fast, pushing to do, everything that people ask, demand, need of me to do. And more. Of course, more. Writing endless lists that never end. Always finding more for myself to do. Can’t you see I’m busy dammit?

While drinking my coffee and meeting with people I was told of this syndrome, of rushing women, who rush even when they don’t need to rush. Who have somehow sped their lives up to a speed, which can outpace their hearts and their lives.

I may have a condition called perfectionism I confessed to someone recently. I may be a rushing woman. I may be setting goals for myself which keep me in a constant state of busy not-enough. Not enough achieved, not enough done, not enough made. Just. Not.

Enough.

My coffee dwindles.

There was a time when I thought ‘perfect’ was a thing. That it could be, it could actually happen but that I just wasn’t it and if I kept trying maybe one day I would be.

But now I realise that perfectionism has nothing to do with the quality of what I do, it has to do with how, in my own eyes, nothing is good enough. Measuring, comparing, striving, improving.

And yes, I’m grateful for the benefits these attitudes have provided me in my own privileged world. But the balance needs to be maintained as well.

My thoughts drift to my recent holiday. A month away. I drank so much coffee, quietly, in beautiful places, where the only thing to do, to achieve was to drink that coffee, drink in the view and just be. Just be with the people I love most in this world. Surrounded with sights, smells and sounds that resonated deep within.

There was no rushing. There was no competing with some inner mirror.

There was just time and more time, to be and to drink that coffee. But damn it was good.

2 Responses to “Life is too short for bad coffee”

  1. tarajade9 said

    Just excellent! Really good read for 1 am on Saturday ;-) And you pin-pointed it down so well: rushing women. Isn’t that so? And so many of them (us)? Well, I deliberately told myself not to be one of those few months back, so I think I’m doing ok. But – I STILL need to tell myself not to speed up, for all the rest of the things i absolutely need to do today, or better yet, yesterday.

    Some of the cars I see have a sticker saying “Slow down”. We should extrapolate that to rushing women, oder? Just excellent post…. bullseye! Luv,T

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