Just This (Mug)
If you are connected with me on Facebook, you've probably already seen the mug.
If not, allow me to introduce the two of you.
I purchased this mug almost a week ago at an Arts Fair at our Farmer's Market from a local artist (Benjamin Cirgin). I usually don't buy pottery (being a mom of two who plans on everything being scratched, dented, colored upon, torn, written in, cracked, or broken within a few weeks of purchase). However, this one caught my eye.
I don't know whether it was the color, the wabi-sabi curves and textural cracks, or the playful lines. I do know that the second I picked it up, I knew it was heading home with me.
I've started pouring drinks of every sort in there, including the iced chai I got from Starbucks.
Everything simply tastes better when sipped from that mug.
That functional piece of art has opened a flood gate of desires and awareness within me. Suddenly, I'm immensely enjoying every drink I have. And it's all because of one little mug.
To be fair, it could be any mug. This particular one happens to awaken me to the beauty of the experience that I'm having.
I purposefully pay attention as I carefully lift it (not wanting to drop it!). I notice the weight in my hands, the cool temperature as the pinched edges touch my lips, the way the liquid flows over the glazed curves as if over a water slide, the repeated burst of flavor, warmth, or coolness as the drink rushes onto my tongue. Each sip is a new, welcome exploration.
I am alive for the experience.
How important it is to surround ourselves with objects that remind us of the wonder of this now, to don ourselves with garments that caress us into the sensations of this body, to interact with people that provide space outside of judgment for us to explore our being, to play with thoughts that awaken us instead of lull us into habitual complacency.
You don't need to purchase a new mug. (Though if you want to, I know of a fantastic artist you can visit...) You don't need to purchase new clothes or new books or new classes. Simply begin where you are, in appreciation of the one thing you are touching right now.