I order the Guatemala pour over – which has hints of buttermilk, according to the chalk board menu. I don’t care what hints lurk within the folds of the drink. It is warm.
Its scent reminds me of vacations, many vacations – wandering the streets of Portland, Oregon by myself when I was newly divorced, sipping fresh coffee on an Encinitas, California patio with my husband on a whirlwind weekend two years ago.
I splash locally made cream into the mug. It’s a ceramic mug with the logo emblazoned on the side. The richness of the cream in the coffee, the hue so reassuring – not so dark and deep and murky and not so light as to be milky. It’s just the right color.
I sit facing the window because the orange of the warm morning is too brilliant to look away. A man sits at the counter with his laptop, the sunlight pouring over his screen. Another man with a red beard occupies a four-top all alone his gray bag the same color as the upholstered chairs. He closes his computer and stares at his smart phone.
The music thumps, loud, boisterous, way too much for an early morning. I wonder how my son is doing. Probably fine. We’ve all endured braces and lived to tell about it but as a mother, this is uncharted territory for me. I sip my coffee. I take a bite of the cinnamon raisin scone. My friend reads.
It’s the dawn of a new day. And a new day is always a gift.
The Jewish blessing thanks God for giving us another chance in this new dawn, a fresh start, as if we are born again each day. (And really we are.)
In so many other religions, the morning blessings are also a show of gratitude for another chance at doing things right, at highest interactions, at right over wrong, at the greater good.
This is what a morning is. This is the dawn. The revelation that we have another chance to start fresh, to be nice, to achieve success for everyone around us.
Are you embracing the day?
In my own morning prayers, I asked to be guided on the path to greatest good, to mutual benefit, to work for divine purposes, to achieve for the betterment of the world. I have to do it every day lest I forget. It’s that easy, this human path, to forget how to be grateful, to lose sight of the miracle in a new day.