Coffee as an Agent of Change
I woke up this morning with my mind on fire. 6.30 in the am and nothing was going to keep me in bed today. The alarm wasn’t even due to crank out its unrelentingly, electronically shitful, but cheery, clarion call for at least 30 mins, however, I couldn’t wait.
My morning routine beckoned: glass of water (already beside my bed), bathroom, face-wash, clean teeth, mouth-wash, followed by silent meditation. A few other rituals ensued, then some personal development reading before my first writing exercise for the day. The latter at my desk. My computer began its waking up sequence about this time as well. Oh yeah, the writing was, in unreadable longhand, in my A4 project book with the 18mm dotted lines. A joy to behold.
By now I was getting excited about what I had prearranged for the day the night before. Spreadsheets to be filled out, emails to be written and answered, planning for a number of undertakings my crazy brain had served up for me during the night which I was now recalling. In great detail. Breathe.
It had been like this for a few months now, ever since I realised that there were only 20 years left. I mean, 20 years before this frenetic lifestyle I wished to lead might not be possible. I keep thinking of new adventures I want to have, new places I must see, new ideas I find continuously cropping up which beg to be explored. New music to listen to. New theatrical ventures to pursue and, yes, many new articles, blogs and even books I just have to write.
So much to do. So little time, goes the cliché.
Let us begin.
One of the issues with having so much going on in a brain, is where to start? What happens first? Sorting, culling prioritising – many tasks each seeming to have a mind of its own, calling out. Me first!
I started. It was a bit like pushing your hands into the balls in the Tattslotto sphere and pulling out a number. OK. That’ll do. Let’s make that the first one.
And so it continues.
You know when you meditate - how you seem to spend most of your time catching thoughts as they propel themselves across the sphere of your mind? How you struggle to keep the external world from ruining the moment?
It’s a bit like that with me and my mental madness. All attempts to keep a single focus fail. I start a task and another muscles its way onto the floor. “Too much”, I cry.
Another rumble in the nest of balls. Another idea to follow-up. What about this one? Oh yes! A new shiny thing. Something else to end up not completed. Another thread to catch as it flutters in the breeze of nothingness.
Suddenly, a loud insistent whistling sound permeates the air. I breath again, and to myself, I sigh. The realisation hits me. It is, finally, time for coffee.