I'm new to the world of coffee. I've always loved its smell and taste, but my body didn't know how to handle the caffeine. The intolerance manifested itself in headaches, sweaty palms, and that uncomfortable jittery feeling so I inevitable avoided it altogether and simply enjoyed its scent. Then one year, on a Monday morning after daylight savings time kicked in and New York City sprang one hour forward, I had my first sip on a long time. That weekend was filled with late nights, beautiful wine, and dance-floor booty shaking with my friend Sarah and I desperately needed a pick-me-up. I reached for my first quarter-cup of Green Mountain Vanilla-flavored coffee. While I have had better [and more sustainable!] cups of coffee since, somehow my body needed it. It was ready for the pleasure of coffee.
At this point in my coffee-world experience I'm not a daily coffee drinker. And as I sit here at the Ace Hotel, sipping on my Stumptown Coffee Roasters macchiato, I must say, every single one of my taste buds have come alive. My first macchiato at Stumptown, as Aran witnessed, truly made my day. My words traveled to the barista's ear almost before my brain receptors received the information - "this coffee made my day." How many times can you say that in life? It was simply a fine cup of coffee. Since then, it has become a spontaneous ritual. And as a result it's special every time. I don't want to have it everyday and spoil the fun.
This brings me to a David Brooks article I recently read about happiness. Brooks refers to a study by the scholars Elizabeth W. Dunn, Daniel T. Gilbert and Timothy D. Wilson, that suggests: "Buy experiences instead of things; buy many small pleasures instead of a few big ones; pay now for things you can look forward to and enjoy later." In reflection, I will always remember that first cup of macchiato and remember it joyfully. It was an experience. And a small pleasure. And on the occasions when I will treat myself to one, I will delight in ever sip!
I've always believed in experiences as generators of happiness. Accumulation of "things" doesn't really do it for me and according to the research it doesn't really do it for most people. How quickly does excitement for that beautiful dress, that top of the line souped-up car, or that expensive dining room table wear off? Novelty, surprise, and uncertainty are the variables that give us pleasure. And it's these little macchiato experiences that remind me of how I want to live my life.
My taste buds are patiently awaiting the next cup of pure loveliness... thank you Stumptown!
Comments