The Art of Beholding
Beginning again to savor.
" Savor" is the word that came to mind this morning as I made my ritual cup of delicious bean juice. Executing the new focus of moving my body slowly (as if in water), I crafted the cup through the diligent process of each simple step. The best moments started when I pulled the spoon from the drawer. You see, I have a favorite one. It seems silly to admit that I have a favorite long-handled spoon, but I do. And this morning I let myself enjoy that. I almost didn’t excavate it from the group of similar-length spoons. But, as I slowed down and let myself savor the moment (that simple act of pulling the sleek spoon from the drawer), I could not help the upward childlike curl of a smile on my face. It was instinctual. With a sigh and a bit of surprise, I recognized I felt delight.
I observed the spoon as I carried it from its former resting place to the new, useful opportunity. I caressed the soft, rounded edges and examined the craftsmanship. I continued slowly and consciously. Lifting the coconut oil from the cupboard, I brought everything to the island.
Where once I would have merely gone through the steps of making the bullet coffee, today I found a gentle, gleefulness in the process. Delicately scraping the coconut oil from the jar and watching it curl up onto the favorite spoon, I then stirred it with care into the coffee that filled my memorial mug. As I watched, the once-solidified substance melted and danced with each pass of the sleek spoon. Wonder crept in, and the awe of this mini miracle lifted and expanded me. I felt it. It. Was. Tangible.
Savoring and drinking in the moment of deliberate beholding, the simple act of crafting my morning coffee became an experience of beautiful peace in the midst of slowed and quiet life.
I want more.
