I Don't Want Inner Peace. I Want To Vibrate

Why my attempt at mindfulness lasted exactly one and a Half minutes.

I decided to make a mindful cup of tea instead of more coffee. I’d had three cups already. My hands were shaking. It was time for better choices.

So: Tea, mindful tea. Like a person with their life together.

I boiled the kettle. Mindfully.

I selected calming chamomile. I poured with intention. I watched the steam rise, inhaling the delicate aroma. I sat down, held the cup with both hands, and felt the warmth.

This was nice. Peaceful. Grounding. I took a sip.

It tasted like hot flower water.

Which, to be fair, is exactly what it was. I took another sip. Focused on being present. On subtle flavours.

It still tasted like I was drinking wet grass.

I tried to lean into it. This was good for me. Calming. Restorative. Everything coffee wasn’t.

Coffee is chaos. It is jittery energy and poor decisions at high speed. Tea is serene. It is the beverage equivalent of a deep breath.

I sat there. Breathing. Sipping. Being very calm and very bored.

Then it hit me: I didn’t want serenity. I love the chaos.

I wanted the mild panic. I wanted the feeling of my heart beating slightly faster than medically recommended. Tea was asking me to slow down. Be present. Appreciate subtlety.

I didn’t want subtlety. I wanted to vibrate at a frequency that let me exist in two dimensions simultaneously.

The tea sat there. Warm. Calming. Utterly ineffective. My focus was drifting. Energy dropping. The afternoon stretched ahead like a slow walk through beige carpeting.

This wasn’t mindfulness. This was a tactical error.

All I could think about was coffee. Rich, dark, aggressive coffee. Coffee that doesn’t ask you to “be present.” Coffee that grabs you by the collar and screams “YOU’RE PRESENT NOW.”

I made coffee.

Not mindfully. Quickly. With purpose. I didn’t focus on the aroma. I didn’t hold the cup with both hands. I just drank it like a functional adult with things to do.

Perfect.

The tea had served a purpose. It made me realise what I truly needed. The mindfulness experiment is over. Tea can stay in the cupboard, waiting for the day I make better choices.

That day is not today. Today is a coffee day.

Tomorrow's looking like coffee too.

Some of us aren’t meant for serenity.

Some of us are meant for caffeine and mild anxiety.

I can hear colours now. It’s fantastic.