The small ritual of a morning coffee

For years, coffee was something I carried between tasks. I drank it over email, on the way to meetings, or standing beside the kitchen counter while looking for my keys. I rarely remembered finishing it.

Five minutes at the window

One morning, the internet went down. While the router blinked, I sat by the window with my cup. A neighbour was watering a plant. A bus stopped and moved on. I realised I could not remember the last time I had watched the street without also watching a screen.

A ritual does not have to improve you. Sometimes it can just belong to you.

I began leaving my phone in the other room for those first few minutes. Some mornings I think about something that is worrying me. Some mornings I think about nothing in particular. The coffee is not better. The cup is the same.

There are days when this does not happen. I oversleep or the day starts before I am ready. I try not to turn a small kindness into another rule to fail. When there is time, I sit down again. The window is still there.