Ah, yes, the details you see are beautiful. Sometimes, when I am not in my own world, in my head, I practice thanking the people who grew the food I take for granted. The sun, earth, and rain. The ones who transport, pack, unpack, and shelve so I can go to the store of plenty to get what I need. So thank you for reminding me of this simple fact.
I remember years ago (maybe 20 or 15) reading a short story (probably in the New Yorker) set in “the future.” The first person narrator, mired in a daily life in which there was no coffee to be had, made do with a disappointing substitute. Bereft of familiar routine, pleasures, stimulants. When I read that story, my own need for coffee was, ummm, inflexible. I was horrified about how the arriving climate catastrophe would take away my safety net. Your essay arrives all these years later as the collapse starts to poke at us in lands that haven’t yet been consistently disrupted or destroyed. I am glad I stopped drinking coffee years ago but it’s no consolation for the terrible changes, loss of life and ways of living.
Ah, yes, the details you see are beautiful. Sometimes, when I am not in my own world, in my head, I practice thanking the people who grew the food I take for granted. The sun, earth, and rain. The ones who transport, pack, unpack, and shelve so I can go to the store of plenty to get what I need. So thank you for reminding me of this simple fact.
Love that Stephen. Thanks for sharing. Such a good practice to stay in relationship with what supports us everyday. ❤️
I remember years ago (maybe 20 or 15) reading a short story (probably in the New Yorker) set in “the future.” The first person narrator, mired in a daily life in which there was no coffee to be had, made do with a disappointing substitute. Bereft of familiar routine, pleasures, stimulants. When I read that story, my own need for coffee was, ummm, inflexible. I was horrified about how the arriving climate catastrophe would take away my safety net. Your essay arrives all these years later as the collapse starts to poke at us in lands that haven’t yet been consistently disrupted or destroyed. I am glad I stopped drinking coffee years ago but it’s no consolation for the terrible changes, loss of life and ways of living.
It's interesting how something as ordinary as coffee can suddenly point to something much bigger that's already underway. Fiction meets reality.