Who Would Know?

Today I walked into Wegmans and the first thing I smelled was the coffee. It was a cold, raw day. I was tired. On the drive over I thought about stopping at The Soulful Cup for a latte.

In my mind I saw myself standing at the counter, ordering a latte, not to go, but in a big cup with a saucer.

Hot espresso

In my mind I took my cup to the back room, settled into a comfy chair among the books and the people working on their laptops.

And then taking a sip.

Mindfully.

Reverently.

Savoring the flavor, the aroma, the warmth of this heavenly elixir cradled in my cupped hands.

My naturopath Jennifer said last week: “Go 2 more weeks.” (without coffee)

This has been really hard. It has now been 32 days since I’ve had a cup. After the first 10 days, I thought I was through the worst of it.

And I am, really. On most days, I am really, totally O-Kay.

But not today. Today I felt like an addict.

I really needed something to perk me up and comfort me.

I told myself I was ridiculous. This was not cocaine, after all;  this was a freaking cup of coffee. Innocuous. Legal. And according to some research, really good for you. A health food, almost. Practically medicine.

I wanted a milky cup of warmth that would boost my energy and my mood. Hell, I would have settled for a nice Americano, I didn’t need the milk. But in my coffee fantasy, I saw the latte art, and it had me craving.

Who would know if I snuck into Soulful for a cup? I didn’t have to tell G or Jennifer. What would be so bad about having  a cup of coffee on a shitty cold day in April?

I did not make the right onto Market St and go to Soulful,  but went straight to Wegmans.

The coffee kiosk is right inside the front doors. And even though the coffee there is far inferior to Soulful, and the barista is a complete nitwit, and slow, and there is no inviting place to sit, so I would end up sipping as I shopped, still, I was sorely tempted.

As I tooled around the Nature’s Marketplace section picking up my spelt bread and my wild caught tuna fish, I almost cart crashed a couple holding big coffee cups.

Really. Who would know?

On my way out, I thought of the 30 minute ride home, the boring chore of unloading groceries, and felt no energy. I could get a cup to go and sip it as I drove home listening to my James Altucher podcast. By the time I pulled into my driveway I would be all perked up and ready for the tasks ahead.

Who would know?

Me. I would know.

2 more weeks. Good god. How am I ever going to make it?

*whimper*

Logging In To This Moment

I’m a big fan of the Buddhist Geeks podcast, because even though I don’t “identify” as a Buddhist per se, I certainly feel a deep affinity for much in Buddhist philosophy, particularly Zen.

Back in early March, there was a great interview with a guy named Soren Gordhamer about how technology, particularly social media (i.e. Facebook, Twitter, etc) and spirituality intersect.

Like I said, it was a great interview and if you want to read it, or download it into your Ipod, you can go here and do so.

I got Gordhamer’s book, Wisdom 2.0: Ancient Secrets For The Creative and Constantly Connected, after that interview, because are you kidding me? Creative and Constantly Connected?? Could there be a better description of me?  I think not!

But I have a deep shame about how I am constantly connected. I am totally addicted to entranced with media: blogs, FB, Twitter, podcasts, email, you name it.  I have tried controlling my online addiction through various Draconian measures, such as media fasting during the weekends (dismal failure), internet dieting (no internet after 7 PM) (hah!), and by vowing to read a book a week instead of browsing the web so there would be no time to be online, thereby replacing a good habit (reading) with a bad one (browsing).  Fail.

This week I am actually reading the Gordhamer book, and it is very cool.  He uses tech language to describe Zen concepts.  The one that lit me up today was “Logging in to this moment.”

This idea is intimately linked to the Tollean concept of “The Now.”  (It’s not really a Tollean concept, but Tolle‘s is the most current and pop culture articulation of it).  Everybody knows (theoretically, intellectually) that there is only “now.” The trouble is, we keep forgetting it, and we don’t always have  a quickie way to get back to it, once we’ve strayed (deeply) out of it.

And here’s where Gordhamer’s genius articulation of “logging in to the moment” comes in.  Gordhamer says, “Logged out of the moment? No problem, just log back in.”

So this is what I see in my head:

This is the inner login screen:

Username:_______

Password:________

And this is how I fill it in:

Username: Kath

Password: Yoga.

Then I hit login, and I’m good to go.  Back in the moment. (ahhh….)

So all day I’ve been watching myself as I’ve been tooling through my day, and whenever I catch myself “futuring” (i.e. projecting myself into imaginary future scenarios) I say to myself, “Kath, log into this moment.”  And I go to the login screen in my head, and bam.  Back.

And this, my friends, is what inspired me today!

(logging out of this moment.)