Why does coffee taste so good first thing in the morning?
I’m not even a purist who drinks his coffee only black. Nope, I pour in an unmeasured couple of tablespoons of Reese’s peanut butter cup creamer followed by a heaping teaspoon of Splenda. I’m essentially drinking a bastardized cup of cocoa with some caffeine. I can’t even call myself a coffee snob or connoisseur. I get my beans from GFS because it’s the same coffee the greasy spoon diner down the street uses and get my Keurig pods from Aldi’s store brand.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I got the same effect from drinking a Coke Zero. My pleasure comes from a caffeine addiction I have yet to claim ownership of.
My family is going away for the weekend giving me some much needed quiet time. I am one of those people that absolutely cherish silence and solitude. I’m not a hermit (although my wife may claim otherwise) but I get genuine pleasure in periods of inactivity.
It makes me wonder if my true calling is that of a monk. Essentially hours of quiet prayer and/or meditation followed by labor in the garden and ending the day with study and/or research. Pure bliss I tell you! No, I’m not joking— this is a variation of a perfect day. (You know, it’s frowned upon to have 4-year-olds who you absolutely adore and can’t live without in a monastery.)
I feel like I have hit another roadblock in my personal development. I am caught between “dreaming” and “doing.” I’m operating out of the mindset that I can plan my way to change and that will give me the life I crave. Great plans, even good plans will make all the difference.
My notebooks are filled with dreams. Both written words and images printed off from the computer and taped to pages. I’m proud of those notebooks. I carry them around with me. My ideas and dreams are contained within them. There is only one problem, those ideas and dreams live only in the notebooks.
I am a dreamer.
I want to be a doer.