Holistic Living - A Cup of Coffee, an Inspiring Nun, & Acupuncture

I left early this morning to make a few local deliveries and pick up rent at the Seneca building, so my routine of walking the dogs and enjoying the coffee my husband brews each morning was disrupted. I threw on my jeans, sweatshirt & flip flops, didn't quite get around to brushing my teeth, loaded up the girls and headed to my favorite coffee joint in five counties.

I normally tell the barista to pick one of their fresh brewed coffees for me; black, no cream, no sugar.  But today I was feeling like maybe I should make my own decision about the black brew I love so much.  As I read their menu shaking my head "no" to all the "steamed milk latte this" and "leprechaun something that" I spotted the Americana. Hmmm...a shot of espresso diluted in water.  Espresso, the "essence of coffee" as my Brazillian boss used to say.  I love the flavor of espresso, but I never order it because it seems like I'm on a mission for a quick fix. I prefer to enjoy the process, as with most things in my life, slowly sipping and savoring the delicious complex flavor of a really deep, rich, dark cup of coffee. The idea of coffee, in it's most intense form, diluted for longer enjoyment seemed like a fair request.

Was there a difference between the experience of a traditionally brewed cup of coffee and a cup of espresso diluted in water? And what was the deeper question this coffee conundrum was conjuring up in me?

As I sipped my Americana, I thought about the Buddhist Nun I had the good fortune to meet a few weeks ago while visiting family on the east coast. My Aunt and Uncle live in a very small town so when I spotted a new place very succinctly named "The Organic Market & Holistic Center of Poolesville" I knew I had to check it out. In the market section, the produce was alive with perfectly placed heads of lettuce, perky upland cress and another kind of delicate lettuce my cousin swore she just weeded out her well-manicured lawn that morning. My inner chef was jumping with joy and inspired to create a big beautiful salad to accompany our meal planned later that evening.

In the distance, written among the other chalkboards that listed items like local honey & organic yams, I noticed the Holistic Center offered acupunture. I could almost see the big ethereal arms coming through the doorway and gently encouraging me to walk through to the other side. As I walked through the doorway from the market to the holistic center, it felt as though I was removing the layers of my exterior leaving one part of my Self on a hook labeled "heavy coats here". As I moved through the second doorway into the room where I would receive my session it dawned on me that I was naked, only wearing a white terry cloth robe with the word vulnerability embroidered in gold thread.

Moving through vulnerability with the subtle prick of the acupuncture needles, like the strangely familiar juxtapose of the retired Armed Forces Veteran gone Buddhist Nun Acupuncturist, seared my soul as if I was just branded with a hot iron labeled "We've got a live one here". I remember the nun's apology for enjoying a cup of coffee during our initial conversation because it was somehow an unenlightened beverage of choice. I propose a simple cup of coffee, like the imposing needles along the length of my body, provided the perfect venue to bring forth the subtle internal knock of my whole-istic self. The knock you can barely hear but can't ignore - who's questions sit in the back of the mind and linger until you finally pay attention to them. 

The question of the diluted espresso and how life becomes less and less purposeful and more watered down began to take shape as I sipped the last drop of my Americana. I will continue to enjoy the traditionally brewed cup of coffee; black, no cream, no sugar, and have certainly come to appreciate that life, diluted, is not nearly as delicious as a fully brewed, fully experienced cup of life...whether it's savored over a long period of time or only lasts for a brief moment.