Coffee, ground and ready, looks like dirt, but it smells like sex. It is something earthy and exotic, tactile and other-worldly. Like sweat and orgasm. Today, the day after my twenty-fifth birthday, I am out buying my favorite indulgence: Kailua-Kona coffee beans.
I used to be addicted, but today I want it for another reason. Today, coffee is a celebration, not a crutch. Today I buy sexy coffee beans, not because I need to, but because I want to.
I am just twenty-five, and by most calculations rather young, but sometimes I feel ancient. In these moments where time expands and the world seems clearer, pearls of insight become suddenly apparent to me. Here it is, what I stumbled across sniffing beans this morning after my birthday:
There should never be a time in your life when you don’t know exactly how you came to be where you are. Whether you’re eleven, twenty-five, or ninety, you should be able to tell your story. And if some morning you can’t, you should retrace your steps until your path becomes clear. You owe yourself that much. Know the story of your life.