Too often, instead of just plain enjoying it, we tend to put
in so many conditions on our sense of joy.
Take for example my recent purchase. But before that, allow
me to digress a bit.
I long wanted a French press. Sadly, the good ones cost an
arm and a leg. Check Starbucks' and know what I mean.
Desperation supposedly brings out genius but not this time.
I tried boiling it at first. In spite my best effort to sieve it, bits of
ground coffee still found its way into my cup dashing all hopes of true coffee
bliss. Coffee should be sipped not chewed.
My good God had seen my struggle and in one supermarket
instant, I was led to this shelf where I found my hope. A French press costing
a scandalous 150 Philippine pesos. OK it's not a Bialetti or a Bodum or
Freiling or a Grosche but it does work. Besides, who says I need to pawn my
house to be in coffee paradise?
Posting on Facebook this new found joy, it elicited a lot of
responses. Two stood out. The first was from a cousin who promised me an Ecuadorean, (a Perla Negra or a Zamora would be nice) the next time, whenever
that next time is. I just took it as she
is married to an Ecuadorean, hence the promise of something special from that part of Spanish speaking America.
The other one is from a friend who wants to know what blend
is it that I pressed: Arabusta, Mayaguez ,
Hawaiian Kona, Java, Blue
Mountain
A lot of us tend to make too much ado over nothing. We
complicate our joy. We subject our happiness to so many rules. We stress
ourselves out because we need to have that perfect, in my case coffee,
experience. But perfect only makes joy fragile. Joy should liberate.
And so I sip this unknown blend from the South. I do not
know what is exactly in it but one thing I am sure of, this is joy.
