A 20 oz. glass jar holds my cold, black coffee. It’s label with the words Artichoke Hearts complete with an image of half of an artichoke, is half peeled– the last evidence of this jar’s first life.  

Today’s coffee was made yesterday. Prepared and portioned to save myself 15 minutes for this morning’s 6am virtual meeting. In retrieving the glass French Press from the fridge by it’s black plastic handle, I am relieved that I did indeed save myself enough jolt juice for this morning.  

I am off camera, which means I can sip my coffee blearily, taking my time in waking up.

My alarm was set for 5:45am. I like to get up one hour before I do things normally, but this particular morning is an exception. 

In working on becoming a morning person in the last several years, begrudgingly at first, and now by preference, I have learned that a successful, enjoyable, rested early morning takes planning and discipline the night before.

The night prior to this morning, with my cold, black coffee, I was teaching a very high-energy workout class. It takes time for my brain to stop counting repetitions after that class— pushups, lunges, keeping right and left sides even.

This is not normally noteworthy in my schedule, however with this early meeting I now have the next morning, I have decided day-before coffee prep is the kindest course of action for myself. A multicolor wooden spoon stirred the freshly ground beans and hot water poured from a silver stovetop kettle together. After pouring half into a mug, I put the rest of the morning magic in the fridge. A cold-brew caffeination station for tomorrow. 

Prior to logging on to the meeting and after pouring the coffee into my jar, I sit. My cold French press coffee in a glass jar and a glass of water (in a repurposed Santa Cruz peanut butter jar) await me.

My meditation cushion is not so much of a formal cushion as a folded blanket to literally cushion my ankle bones from my hard vinyl, meant-to-look-like-hard-wood, floor. I sit down on the blue and white fuzzy blanket and push the side button on my watch. The Siri swirl comes up and the words “What can I help you with?” pop on the screen of my watch. I ask her to set my alarm for five minutes from now. 

I take a deep breath in and hold it. In that pause I can feel my heart beat in my chest. I hear it in  my ears. I feel full in my chest and belly. As I let it out, I drop in. A few more breaths. “Thinking.” Breathe in. Pause. Breathe out. Let it be. Class will start, the day will come. For now, I sit. In a few minutes we will (bow) to begin our meeting together. 

My watch buzzes gently to alert me that my five minute meditation window has come to a close. I take one final breath in and out. I blink my eyes open and look around for my glass of cold coffee. As I reach behind me to retrieve my repurposed artichoke jar, placed on a lap desk on my couch in preparation for this exact moment, I take my first sip of coffee. 

The sides of the glass jar have condensation from the jar’s cold contents being placed into the room temperature air. As I hold the cool, damp jar, I taste the bitter, dark roasted flavor. The first few sips are more like gulps. Attempts at waking my brain quickly before logging into Crowdcast. 

As the meeting goes on, my sips slow. They get smaller and by the end of my jar of coffee, it is room temperature, the sides of the glass have dried. I gulp the last little bit, along with the rest of my water, before I head out for my morning run.