Ever notice how things change for the better without you
ever having known things weren’t already better? These small changes made on our behalf may be
small, but they add up. Let’s do some existential
math.
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| A Full Vessel of Love Mixed media on paper 2013 By Glee Lumb |
I go to the coffee shop and order a small cup of coffee for
here. Room for cream, please. I’ve got my perfect potion worked out when it
comes to coffee. One inch at the top of
the cup gives me a half-inch of cream, bringing the temperature and
drinkability to…well, perfect. Perfection is illusive and always changing for me.
It happens so slowly, I hardly notice, but these small changes make me
feel like I am in charge of my universe.
No one can take away my small choices.
Perfection is illusive and always changing for me. It happens so slowly, I hardly notice, but these small changes make me feel like I am in charge of my universe. No one can take away my small choices.
So, one morning, I walk into the coffee shop down the street
and order a small coffee for here. The
barista nods, takes a cup, goes to a spigot, and fills my cup with hot
water. I see the steam coming up, her
hand swizzle the cup, and set it down on the counter. How exciting to see that my cup is being so
lovingly prepared.
I pay for the coffee, one ninety, ten cents to the tip
jar. Not much of a tip, but I figure it
adds up. She turns and pours the hot
water out of my cup into a small sink and down the drain. My lovely hot cup is then filled to just the right
spot with steaming hot coffee.
Beautiful. It feels good in my
hand and I smile with the warmth of a morning sun.
This is a new thing, the loving preparation of my cup with
hot water. Before, I would have expected
it to be clean and made of thick ceramic, a classic design with purpose and
function. I expected the handle to fit
my fingers and the mug to fit my hand.
And soft. I like a soft cup. But the hot water was so subtle, such a
treat. It’s such a nice idea. It wasn’t my
choice, but no one would think to ask customers whether or not they would like
to have a warm cup. I am grateful for
this misguided effort to give me more warmth and joy. Who would turn down an external experience of
warmth and joy? Isn’t this what being an
American is all about?
Who would turn down an external experience of warmth and joy? Isn’t this what being an American is all about?
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| Water Tower at Hydro Park Ne Portland, Oregon By Glee Lumb |
But wait, isn’t my hot cup of coffee taking away from what I have, from what we have?
Did anyone think to say “No, thank-you!” to the lovingly prepared
cup? Did anyone else feel angry about
this added bonus to our morning routine already wrought with ecological guilt? After all, I am not the only one who got the
heated cup treatment. Hundreds of
customers that day got the hot water treatment. They probably got it day after
day for months. Did we even notice when
having a hot cup became a basic offering at a coffee shop? Who started it? How many cups of hot water have been poured
down the drain this year? How much water
is that? How much does that cost the
coffee shop in water bills? How much
does that cost us, as a community, in clean water for the future? I know, you might be thinking, “It’s still
clean water. We didn’t dirty it.” Well,
it wasn’t dirty in the cup, but it joined its buddies in the water world of the
sewer, where dirty, clean, filthy, and poisoned are together. Where a little pesticide here, a little hair
dye there, a bit of paint down here add up to a lot of yucky water that has to
be cleaned. And does it ever really get
clean? So, here is this sweet, hot,
innocent cup of water, given with good intention, and it ends up being a much
greater burden than the comfort it was mean to be. I can think of a lot of things that have
ended up being a much greater burden than the comfort they were meant to be.
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| The Inevitability of Change Mixed media on paper By Glee Lumb 2013 |
So, tomorrow, I’ll start sweating the small stuff and say, “Hey, you don't have to heat my cup. It’s not worth it. That clean water is worth more than the heat it carries. The heat is only a temporary condition. The energy used to heat the water is more precious than my temporary experience of warmth and joy. So, please, hold the hot water.”
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Another wonderful post, thank you! And the art is equally beautiful, Glee. xoxo
ReplyDeleteWell done, Glee. Add the carbon footprint of heating all that water that goes down the drain and it makes you point even more important.
ReplyDelete