For me, selecting a mug for my morning cup of coffee is a meditative act.

I collect mugs; or, as I see them – little memories of joyful moments. And infused within each of these mugs are the emotional and spiritual energetic lingering of those moments. They are fractals of my experiences, pieces of pleasure and adventure. They have a mood so I select them according to the mood I want to invoke within my morning – and the rest of my day.

Sometimes my husband chooses a mug for me, and it doesn’t quite fit. So, I return it to the cupboard and feel around for something right. Selecting a mug, for me, is not a passive act; it is very intentional and sacred. That may sound silly to some, but it’s special to me.

Today, my husband selected the right mug: my yellow mug with the beautifully adorned ‘A’ upon it. The blue handle makes it stand out, even more. The yellow is one of my favourite colours. I paid only 2,50CAD for this one; it invokes inner child joys when I drink from it.

When I was a kid, I used to love being on the top of attendances, at the front of the lines, picked first due to my A last name. I used to joke that I needed to marry someone with an A last name so I could stay at the top (not realizing that no attendance is taken in adulthood), and so my future children could be at the top of the list, too. I not only married a man with an A last name, but he’s before me on any attendance list, too. I got even further ahead with this new last name (though it is not on my passport or Canadian legal documents). If only I could go back in time and tell myself new news!

Sometimes, my son gets upset if I give him water or milk from the wrong cup. Honestly, I get it. There is something that connects me to certain mugs, perhaps the waves of history that are embedded within them, perhaps the spirit they conjure up when they’re filled, perhaps the special place they come from that I hold within my heart. Whatever the reason, my connection – and preference in a moment – is valid. And therefore, so is my son’s.

When I’m working with one hand and trying to satisfy his needs, it may frustrate me when he rejects the one I’ve chosen for him, but perhaps this is a lesson for me. Maybe I should just lay them out for him at eye level and let him make the choice. Maybe he, too – like me – wants a say in what energy he will ingest that will help him propel his day forward.

Alas – a lesson in the meditation of selecting a mug. What a beautiful thing.

xx C