It’s Only Coffee

It’s time for coffee! ~happy dance~ Coffee time! I was asked how much coffee could I drink this morning. I pointed to a decorative mega-mug, a converted 55-gallon drum. “I could drink as much coffee as this 55-gallon mug can hold.”

“Just watch me.”

I was offered a bucket to measure cream and sugar with, but after noting the interior of the giant mug held the same internal proportions and shape as my regular mug, I declined.

I poured in sugar until it looked right. A handful of salt. (Yes, I do salt my coffee.) By then the cold press coffee that had been gently warmed to serving temperature was ready. (Boiling coffee is bad, and the gods will smite you.)

Coffee was poured in by means of a hose attached to the brewing apparatus. Again, no measurements, just added until the level looked right.

Half-and-half milk, supplied in 10-gallon buckets was poured in. Only took 2. About the same proportion as my hand-sized mug. A wooden paddle, kept clean for food handling, was handed to me. I stirred and stirred and stirred.

Somewhat giggling, because I was stirring widdershins, intentionally. I always do, it’s how my right arm just settles into stirring. Some watching were horrified, saying I was stirring evil into my coffee.

It smelled right. It looked right. I took a sip.

Horrible. Still bitter. Like I had not put any sugar in it. (Some coffee I brew to require sugar, some coffee I brew to drink straight. This one was Sugar:Necessary.)

I kept a straight face and smiled a big beaming smile. “Mine, all mine, and none of y’all can have any.” I went back to the business of drinking the ruined coffee. Drinking that amount wasn’t a problem. Knowing me, it would turn straight into brain juice or blood. It was getting past the unpleasant taste, and doing so without giving away I had messed it up.

Most of the crowd left. They had assembled to watch a failure and was not interested in successes. Knowing this made drinking the tart mixture easier. Two people stayed behind. I knew them, but do not remember their names. They saw through my facade at once.

“Not enough sugar, eh?” He leaned over the mega-mug and took a sniff. By then, I had drank 1/3 of the coffee.

“But I put enough in! To the point, I thought it would be overly sweet!” I allowed my face to wrinkle a bit in dismay. I knew I couldn’t hide the truth from these two.

“You did.” He retrieved the paddle and rinsed it. “But you forgot which mug you was preparing. Let me guess, when you add the coffee in your regular mug at home, you don’t stir after, right? The heat of the coffee and the force of pouring stirs for you.”

“Yea, why?” He gestured the for mega-mug to be set down. He plunged the paddle to the bottom of the mega-mug, deeper than I had stirred. When he brought the paddle up, great gobs of undissolved sugar clung to it.

“That’s why.” He called for more coffee and more half-and-half to be brought. As he reconstructed my proportions, filling the mega-mug anew, he spoke. “You had the right idea, as far as ingredients. But because of the amount, the procedure had changed. What works on a micro level doesn’t always work on a macro level, and the opposite holds true as well.”

He gestured for me to sip the refilled mega-mug as he went to rinse off the paddle again. “A lot of people hold on to ‘As Above, So Below’, without considering there is a difference that has to be reckoned with.” I sipped the mega-mug, and it tasted like my morning brew, much to my delight. “Or in your case, ‘It’s all a dream, just different levels of consciousness.’” I froze in mid sip, and became fully lucid.

I downed the 55 gallons of perfectly made coffee in one huge gulp, and set the empty container down. My other friend was watching with a somewhat surprised look on her face. I stared at her, trying to remember her name, and was completely stymied. I was not in control of this dream.

I stared back at him, but he too, was hidden from conscious memory. Only that nothing ever escapes his notice, and he is someone I know from the Waking.

“This isn’t about coffee.”

“No, Keri. It isn’t. This is about other things that you are shifting levels with, but forgetting to adjust the procedure to accommodate the change.”

“Which things?”

“I’m sure it will come to you in the morning, as you have your coffee.” The ground suddenly gives way and I fall into absolute darkness.

~~~

I almost tweeted I had no dreams. Waited to get my coffee first before attempting any kind of communication. As I stirred my cup widdershins, the entire dream came rushing back to me.

Yea, I know which things.

Still don’t know who the speaker, and the observer were.

Hmm.

Make of that, what you may.