It is the aroma that pulls me like a marionette on strings to the kitchen in the early morning. It is still dark outside. The house is quiet as others sleep. I hear the faint trickle of water turning into coffee, and see the steam creating moisture on the cabinet above the coffeemaker. Thankful for a machine with a timer, the two-tone beep tells me it is finished. I pour the first cup.
Sitting at the table, I take 20 seconds to really appreciate this cup of coffee. I cradle the mug in both hands, feeling the warmth, aware of its weight in my hands. Is there tension in my arm and wrist? Can I let that tension go while simply cradling the mug?
I see the perfect color of coffee the way I like it.
I take a deep breath into the aroma, feeling my rib cage expand outward, and then relax inward on the exhale.
Tasting the first sip, I take the last 5 seconds to savor the taste, the heat still in the back of my throat as I move into the rest of the day.