What I Learned When I Spilt My Coffee on Thursday
Yup. I spilt my coffee on Thursday. I was minding my own business and then BLAMO my foot decided to karate kick my delicious cup of joe and send it sprawling across the table like a mini tsunami.
Like normal human being does, I got up, went to the kitchen whispering profanities under my breath and grabbed some supplies to clean it up. As I prepared to engulf my mess in a mountain of paper towels, I looked at it one last time and found that it was, in a way, beautiful.
There was something about the way the cup was angled. The way the rawness of the wood shaped the path of the coffee… So, like any person my age, I snapped a few pictures and posted it to my Instagram feed with the hopes of becoming instafamous (yes mom, it’s a word).
As I was about to post the photo, I realized something significant. Instead of brooding over the fact that I had spilt a delicious cup of life-nectar, I had instead changed my mindset. I overlooked the mess part and instead appreciated the beauty that was created. Weird.
Now you’re probably wondering “Derick, what the heck are you trying to say with this caffeinated metaphor?… Also, you’re really cool and think your taste in music is fabulous” (last part may be optional, idk).
I guess what I’m trying to say here is that there’s always something of beauty in every mess you make. It may sound weird and you may not realize it right off the bat, but you just have to look at it in the right perspective. Whether it’s spilt coffee, a smashed vase, dropped eggs – you name it, there’s beauty in it.
Hopefully that makes sense. If not, feel free to tweet me (@dericklock) and tell me I’m crazy. Showering me in praise is preferred, however.
Have a good one interwebs,
PS: Yes, I did clean up the mess and no I didn’t become insafamous… only 35 likes 🙁
Derick is an Account Manager for Blue Blazes who enjoys good music, pop-culture clichés and a hearty pun. When he’s not slaying accounts, he enjoys watching copious amounts of football and snuggling his cats.