‘We make ourselves real by telling the truth.’ –Thomas Merton
Well, a few days have gone by since I wrote anything other than poetry, and I felt that it may be a good exercise for me to flex my non-poetic muscles a bit and write some sentences and clauses for a change. There was a time on this blog (it seems like such a terribly long time ago) when I used to do a thing called ‘A Taoist Perspective’ in which I would take a situation (either in real time or here on the Stream) and hold it up to the light of my Taoist philosophy. It was quite fun, and it served to expand my mind in new directions and challenged me as to what I believed. I don’t know that this thing I am writing here today could be placed in the annals of that once great column, but I rarely talk about anything without it being from a Taoist perspective anyway (since I consider myself a Taoist and it is my perspective—funny that!)
I woke up this morning (a blues song!) and my coffee pot was busted. It would not perk. It was perk-less. It seems that its percolating device has gone on to that great percolator in the sky. As a result, your friendly wayfarer has been none to perky today. Well, I am quite sure that there are a number of you reading that can understand being less than perky upon discovering that you had a perk-less coffee pot sitting on your counter first thing in the morning; no coffee, no move-ee. But, what is it about that wonderfully warm, nutty flavored beverage that causes such grief when we can’t get it in the morning? I’ll tell you what it is—addiction.
‘Why, wayf!’ you say (Okay, perhaps you didn’t, but for argument’s sake...) ‘I hardly consider my need to have coffee in the morning at the expense of anything else an addiction. Coffee just gets me going in the morning, that’s all.’ Uh-huh, and crack gets a crack head going, too. We have to face it, coffee can be very addictive and in a very subtle way. Now, this addiction that folks have to coffee may not be as bad (i.e. as dangerous to the well being of others, as long as there is not a perk-less coffee pot sitting around) as crack or heroin, but it is an addiction nonetheless, and we have to tell ourselves the truth in order to make the situation real.
I am not being critical of anyone. Life without coffee would suck the proverbial ‘big one’ without a doubt. But in situations like this, my overly analytical mind begins to try to find ways to distract itself and this seemed as good a way as any for it to do so this morning. But it does amaze me that such a seemingly harmless, warm, and cozy beverage as coffee can get in my head like that—almost like the wolf wearing sheep’s clothes. I say casually all the time: ‘Oh, yes! I am addicted to coffee.’ It is only when one wakes up to a perk-less coffee pot that he realizes exactly how true that statement is.
In the Tao Te Ching (see how this ‘Taoist Perspective’ thing works? Cool huh?) there is a chapter that says: ‘The five colors blind the eyes, the five tones deafen the ears, the five flavors dull the taste’. Now, the ‘five’ in those statements is arbitrary, but the meaning is that once we accustom ourselves to certain sights, sounds, or tastes our sense perceptions become blinded to anything else. We allow ourselves to become addicted to the familiar. We fall into a ‘comfort zone’ of sorts with the things that once brought great pleasure. Over time, the pleasure disappears, and all that is left is a need for the colors, sounds, and tastes that we grew accustomed to. If allowed to go too far, these colors, sounds, and tastes can take on a certain un-pleasurable air. It is not a question of the thing being pleasurable or beneficial any longer, but a strong, deep seated desire to have more and more of it. This is the mechanics of psychological addiction.
When we wake up (and invariably, we do) to a (figurative) perk-lees coffee pot and realize that that particular source of joy is unavailable to us at the moment, our minds become very distressed and we grow anxious, angry, and unnerved. The perk-less coffee pot is there to serve as a reminder to us that we only think we need that thing. It is not a necessary accoutrement, but just something that we should enjoy when we can. There are only a few things in our lives which are necessary and vital—food, shelter, and clothing. Have you ever noticed that there are many people in the world around you that seem obsessed with their houses and clothing? Have you ever noticed how infatuated people can become over food? In all reality, a big house, fancy food, and sharp clothing are completely superfluous. A shack, a bowl of rice, and a warm blanket over the shoulders would suffice. That does not seem to be good enough for most of us, though.
What this all boils down to (why did the word ‘boil’ make me think of coffee?) is that it is fine to enjoy the finer things in life, but we tend to get a little over zealous in that enjoyment—to the point of mild obsession at times. So, I will not have coffee today. So what? I can enjoy it tomorrow. Perhaps this day without coffee will be one of the most beneficial and fruitful days I will ever live. Certainly the perk-less coffee pot in my kitchen is not impeding my ability to do something fruitful. When I realized that my coffee pot was broken this morning, I was at first very agitated. ‘How can I get through the day without coffee?’ The day is moving along nicely, and I have not fell over dead (yet) so I suppose my life could very well move right along even in the absence of coffee.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get to Wal-Mart—there’s a sale on coffee pots...
peace, wayf
