Wholeheartedly knowing the internet doesn’t need another opinion on current affairs, though still reserving my right to say what I wish, if but for the sake of solidifying arguments in my mind, I’m writing another post about something no one may care about except me, because I enjoy writing about things I enjoy.
By the title you can guess what this is about.
Now, it seems to me that getting older can kill a youthful zest for life. When we’re children we have a naturally excitable state of mind for things of the world because they’re new. But, as we assume more responsibility over our lives, the stressors of bad decisions causing a bad ordering of life are often remedied by excessive coffee, booze, ganja, prescription drugs, illegal drugs and of course addiction to flickering lights on phones and televisions.
My point is that we adults can lose that excitable state of youth. We can lose entirely the ability to experience natural joys, and become entirely dependent on substances, because we are so out of touch with that version of self we should have followed but didn’t because the world impelled us to make bad decisions in the first place. I speak from experience.
Yet, I feel no particular sting to my conscience for enjoying coffee. Frankly, I love it.
The alarm on my phone goes off at 5 am every day. Five days out of seven I’m up then. Sometimes it’s 5:30. In a given month I may get up after 6 am two or three times. A love of strong, black coffee fosters such motivation.
I realize some would deprecate this. They’d say coffee’s the most addicting drug in the world, and that it would be better not to love it. So be it. Nonetheless, I do love that hot liquid which conjures vibrancy and optimism. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’ve spent countless hours of life staring at the walls in silence as exciting thoughts as to what I can do with my day and coming days flood into my mind after some thick, black goodness.
Some would say that optimism is a drug-induced high. Maybe it is. I would certainly say that similar feelings of optimism and inspiration that marijuana formerly conjured usually faded entirely after returning to mental normalcy. However, the fact that I still enjoy doing coffee-high inspired activities even after the coffee-high fades makes me regard caffeine as not terribly mind altering, and thus relegate my addiction to it as harmless vice. If an economic apocalypse disrupts the importation of coffee into Arizona, I’ll certainly survive.
But coffee is still here! And I will drink it! And more than staring at the walls in the 5 am hour, I love coffee and reading books then. It’s something I look forward to almost every day.
And I mean books, not reading stuff on the internet. Yes, of course, I do read websites that espouse views attacking the mainstream narrative. However, my days seem to start better when my mind focuses on deeper worlds developed by books.
After all, books provide a greater array of details. You learn more background information on a subject compared to what you learn through mere articles. Thus, they build deeper understandings, and lead you further into the realm of contemplation which God designed our beings to enjoy. Add coffee to this process at five in the morning – a time hours before daily obligations begin to pressure me to do things other than read – and, again, it’s something I look forward to every day.
However less motivated I would be without coffee to get up at 5 am to read about the history of Indians, Greeks or Mexicans I don’t know. I don’t care either. Coffee’s not like heroin, and as long as grocery stores sell coffee, I will buy it to experience the daily joy of deep contemplation at 5 am. Period.