Rituals

I get up, get dressed, and meander into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from my bleary eyes while the morning sun reflects off sides of buildings. I grab the portafilter from the espresso machine, give it a clean wipe, and place it under the grinder. I pull out 18 grams of pre-measured beans and pour it into the machine, turning it on, watching the chocolate-coloured fines shoot out. I spread the grounds evenly—sometimes with my prickly distribution tool and other times with just my finger. Then I take the tamper and adjust my arm to apply even pressure, giving it a slight turn to give the puck a polish.

The portafilter is lifted into the grouphead and given a firm twist into place. The scale and cup are placed underneath and the button is pressed to being the extraction. The slow hiss of the pre-infusion and then the first few drops are followed by a more steady stream of fresh, delicious espresso, forming a nice head of crema. I press the button again to cease the process.

I flip the lever on the steam wand, preparing it for the task at hand: creating a whirlpool of light foamy froth of whole milk I’ve poured halfway up in my carafe. The sound, like paper ripping, starts high and slower lowers as the milk warms and is infused with steam. A flick of the lever turns off the rush and I give the wand a quick stroke to keep it clean.

With carafe in one hand, my cup of espresso in the other, I pour the milk quickly and then slowly in an attempt to create a recognizable design. Perhaps a heart or tulip, but more often than not, an amorphous blob of white.

In the Moment

I have realized that I have established many rituals in my life that enable me to be present in the moment. It’s not about the past or the future—it’s about right now.

When I’m making that espresso, I am present in the process. I am all about what is in front of me.

Cooking a meal helps me to be present. Going to a fine dining restaurant helps me to be present. Sitting on a patio with a cocktail in hand, smoking a cigar helps me to be present. All of these might seem like indulgences and they are but I like them because it gives me time to appreciate them and appreciate the now.

That’s not to say I can’t be present with less indulgent experiences. Tonight, I stopped at a McDonald’s drive-thru to pick up some McNuggets. As I sat at home, eating, I could’ve been present but instead was online, distracted. If I sought to be present, I’m not sure I would’ve enjoyed the meal that was more about sustenance than experience. How much do I want to be aware while eating slightly undercooked fries that taste like the oil didn’t want to let go of the limp and overly salty potato?

But I digress.

I like to seek out moments and experiences that keep me present. It’s like meditation. Perhaps interestingly, since I chose it for a career, web development is like that for me. When I get into the zone, it becomes a form of meditation.

The moment when the drum’n’bass cranks out of the headphones, and my fingers are flowing, with boxes and words and boxes with words popping onto screen, coming together into a cohesive thing. Can’t beat it.

As I’ve done less coding these past few years, perhaps it is becoming more obvious why I’ve been seeking out more opportunities for ritual and meditation and presence.