Your version of minimalism does not have to lack sentimental items
Coffee is the way I wake up in the morning. It provides that little jump start to my day. I remember years ago it took me a lot to even try coffee; it doesn’t taste very good at first. In fact, I don’t know anyone that enjoyed it on their first try. Over time, I trained myself to enjoy it. For one, it was much more affordable than drinking multiple sodas to start my day.
For many years I would require cream and sugar to get it down. In retrospect, this was not any healthier than having multiple sodas. But as I have aged I have found the ability to enjoy black coffee. In it’s own way, this is a minimalist approach to coffee; enjoying it for exactly what it is. It also affords me the experience of coffee without a bunch of other decisions to make.
Quite a few years ago, my Grandmother gave me this little personal coffee pot. It doesn’t make much, but since I am the only one in the house that drinks coffee it is the perfect size. At this point Grandma’s little coffee pot is probably about 14-15 years old and it still works for me. It is a little worn out, the once white form of the machine is more than a few shades of faint brown. The warming plate is burnt and chipped. And the handle on the pot itself has loosened enough to notice.
I often see those nice machines where you insert a single pod to make a cup and I’m tempted to purchase one. The office I work in has one and I enjoy it 5 days a week. Stock up on enough of those pods and you can enjoy a different taste for each cup. But then I reflect and see that this is not necessary. I also realize this defeats my current goals of simplifying life and working towards a version of minimalism that works for me.
I have a coffee pot that works. And the one I have even offers more than a simple cup of black coffee. It offers me the memory of my Grandma to reflect upon as I enjoy my morning drink.