Ferrari Coffee in a Rickshaw Apartment

My boyfriend drinks Ferrari coffee in a rickshaw apartment. There’s an awful lot that can go into your morning cup o’ joe, don’t ya know? You might be surprised. First there is the type of bean you choose. My man spends a considerable amount of time at the roaster in Valley Junction, discussing the taste characteristics of his recent shipment of beans, from all over the world (of course). Are they earthy? Bitter? Bright? Harsh? Nutty? Smooth? Floral? How’s the finish? And, yes, you read correctly. He goes to get his coffee directly from a roaster in town. The discussion about the taste characteristics of the coffee is intricately bound to the roasting process. The roasting process (light, medium, burnt to a crisp) needs to be matched to the type of bean or beans that are being roasted. If done well, the coffee that results is delicious. I’ve always loved coffee myself, but I had no idea how delicious it really could be. My bf only buys a half pound of coffee at a time, so that it's always fresh. He only grinds it in the morning (with a burr grinder), as opposed to me, who thinks it's okay to grind it at night. Actually, I think it's better ground in the morning, but I just don't have time. Or, is it that I don't take the time? Does it have something to do with my priorities?
My man would not, upon first glance, be described as a snob by most. He drives a car assembled in Detroit not much after he was born and lives in an efficiency apartment that costs him less than my property taxes alone. He does not wear designer clothes and cringes at the price of cable, internet and smart phones. But in the wee hours of dawn, when his coffee has been brewed to perfection in his French press, a.k.a a “cafeteriere” the water just the right temperature, the wait time timed precisely, he might go into his bathroom, in his clean but efficient efficiency apartment, to sip and savor it, as to not awaken his son, sleeping on the other side of the wall.
This scene of my man and his Ferrari coffee in his rickshaw flat brought to mind a time I was living in a mobile home park in Boone, Iowa. It was the early 80’s and my mom, brother, and I called home a fairly new 14x70, three bedroom mobile home. That’s efficient trailer speak for 14 FEET wide by 70 FEET long. (Which is significantly larger than the 10x50 I came home to as a newborn.) The car parked next to our clean and tidy 14x70 home was a four door ORANGE Matador that my grandpa found and paid for to help us out. His requirements were for the vehicle to be cheap and reliable. Not pretty. And, the little hole in the trunk was only a problem when driving down gravel roads. One day, mom and I saw the young man who lived across the street, pick up his bride and carry her across the threshold. Not only was I struck by the beauty and the romance of the moment, but also by the car in the driveway. It was a brand new, shiny, sporty, Monte Carlo. Or something. I don’t really know cars, especially circa 1980 cars. I just know it was brand new and shiny and looked out of place in a trailer court. Even our trailer court, which was pretty darn nice as far as trailer parks go. In fact, many Iowa mobile home courts or parks (or whatever we want to call them) are quite nice. As opposed to ones you might find in Colorado, or say, maybe New Mexico. Way, way better than Missouri trailer courts. Anyway, the groom’s trailer was not a total dump, but it was a small, modest looking 12x60. With a shiny new car proudly parked out front. This is when my mom introduced me to the concept of priorities. Neither of our families could afford both a nice mobile home AND a nice vehicle. My family valued a larger, newer space to eat, sleep and watch the Love Boat whereas Mr. Groom valued a newer, shinier way to get from point a to point b. This example seems to have become the nexus for me when thinking of, attempting to set, and allowing others to have different priorities.

We make choices, we prioritize….everyday. Probably every minute or two. We make trivial choices and set trivial priorities. What’s easier today? McDonalds or homemade Asian chicken fritters with edamame and brown rice? Should I exercise or meet my friends out? Should I clean the house or read a book? Should I make some fresh juice in my Jack LaLane juicer or have another bowl of Lucky Charms?

And, we make life defining choices and set life defining priorities. Should I get a higher education? What should I major in? What should my career path be? Where should I work? Should I get married? Have a baby? Get divorced? Move to a bigger home? Move to a smaller home? Should I hold a grudge? Should I open my heart and be vulnerable? Buy that couch or hike the Inca trail?

Or, we don’t. Often, maybe too often, we let chance and circumstances set our priorities. Many of us wander around with loosely defined, or no goals, priorities or values. “In the absence of clearly defined goals, we become strangely loyal to performing daily trivia until ultimately we become enslaved by it.”-Robert Heinlein

It's starting to seem to me that all roads lead to back to being organized. Identifying values, setting goals, prioritizing those goals, and then creating to-do lists. Yearly, monthly, weekly, and daily. What is a Type B personalilty to do? Turns out, what my Type B personality is to do, is to lobby to my Type A personality side to schedule an appropriate amount of "JUST PUTZ" time. Schedule some controlled chaos. And then, execute that plan.
But......and here's the part to pay attention to: This activity is important. We should all feel a sense of urgency to identify our values and then plan accordingly.We need to give ourselves the tools needed to execute the plan.
After surviving sudden deaths of a dear friend and my father, as well as a near death experience myself, two bouts of cancer, and a divorce, I find myself at the precipice of the rest of my life with a multitude of goals floating around in my head. I want to learn Spanish so that I can bring my sons, especially my Guatemalan son, to Guatemala to meet his foster families and his birth mother. While we’re there we could do a full Spanish immersion program for a week followed by a week volunteering at an orphanage. I want to learn how to swim so I can participate, competitively for my age group, in a triathlon; I want to become a yoga instructor, a writer, a photographer. I want to travel more. I want to provide a solid home base from which my boys can thrive, I want to be the top of my profession, and, I want to nurture my relationships. Romantic, friends, family……all of them. Oh! Let’s not forget! I want to retire with a good chunk of change in the bank. I actually have more goals than this, but you get the picture.
Why is it that so many of us have to have a personal brush with death to really grasp the importance and urgency of living a life of your own determined purpose? To feel the mortality of ourselves and our loved ones and know that we've only got one chance, one go around at our life on this earth. We have the power to shape much of how that time is spent. What we contribute to the world through our relationships and contributions is in our hands. "To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe."-Anatole France
So I leave you reading my "longer than recommended blog" (by bloggers in the know), while I sift through all the tools and ways to determine values, set priorities, goals. Reviewing a plethora of tools to track the goals that make the cut through monthly, weekly, and daily to do lists.
All while drinking the most amazing cup of coffee, carefully brewed from shade grown, hand picked (hopefully by my son's relatives) lightly roasted beans, by a soulful and vibrant man with his priorities straight.