I'm fortunate to be able to start most mornings with a ritual that frames my mind, body and soul for the day. It begins with easy stretches, a means of finding where the previous day's aches have overlaid my de facto conditions so that I may usher them out the door.
"Thank you for hanging out, but it's time for you to leave now" residuals of a life still living.
Next comes my morning cuppa. The process of nesting my reusable filter into the drip carafe, adding the daily grind, and ever so slowly pouring hot water over them to create the marvelous mocha elixir I savor.
Morning mental restoration follows, in the form of mind games. My rucksack of toys includes a pair of crossword puzzles. I start with the last one I did, repopulating the grid as best I can from memory before using any help. I'm usually able to finish 4-5 puzzles a week that way. Then I complete the new puzzle of the day.
Other mental manipulations may include Sudoku, Spelling Bee and Connections from the New York Times collection. The quantity of completions doesn't matter at this point. It's whatever it takes to top off my energy tank, encase my mind in the armor of resiliency, and spring forth into the world.
But there's one more action to complete. My full preparation of coffee creates a bit more than my mug holds. The extra, my lagniappe, is placed in a jar to blend with its kinfolk to mingle until it's filled with a concoction of characteristics from the various grinds I chose along the way. The result is a reflective cup of what has been, and a hint of what may come. The flavor will vary. The profile may be sketchy. But it encapsulates the balance and variety of living. And that's rarely a bad thing, don't you think?
(photo property by the author)