Each morning I’m home, I follow the same ritual. I clean the coffee maker, grind the beans, fill the water reservoir, and press BREW. I reach into the cabinet to choose from double stacked memories, from coffee mug mementos that remind me of events, experiences, and eras of my life.
Aside from photos, I don’t keep many physical reminders of my past, but the coffee mugs are an ever-present exception. I wake up my brain and fuel my morning from these vessels, sipping from the emotions and lessons they still hold.
Over the weekend, I chose my Yosemite mug, whose fading text once read of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.
This mug always transports me back to Olmsted Point, that spot where I sat in 2016, legs crossed, overwhelmed by the surreal beauty of the ridge above Tenaya Canyon leading to Half Dome, one of America’s most iconic geologic formations. It’s a place I sat with my son, where we shared the truest sense of awestruck, together.
It was simply the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and each time I slowly sip from this mug, I close my eyes and feel the power of that beauty once again.