I Don’t Have a Favourite Cup

This post was triggered by the story A Coffee Cup in a new book I’m reading by Mike McCardell. Mike is a reporter for Global TV in Vancouver and his specialty is human interest. The book is called The Expanded Reilly Method and its the Canadian answer to Chicken Soup for the Soul. I heartily recommend it. If you live outside of Canada you may have to look for it on Amazon, but the search will be worth it.

Anyway, I drink a lot of coffee, and I have always had a favourite cup. At one time I went through a phase where I refused to wash it in the belief that the build-up of grunge on the inside was the equivalent of the ash or cake that pipe smokers encourage to grow in the bowl of their favourite briar. (Does anyone smoke a pipe anymore? I can’t remember the last time I saw one. If they are still in use, the smoke nazis must have forced them far underground.) In any event, my filthy cup was the cause of a running battle at work. The ladies I worked with were constantly on the watch for any opportunity to kidnap my poor cup and wash it if they ever caught it out unattended. I learned to carry my cup with me everywhere I went to protect it from unwanted exposure to hot water and soap. This running battle continued for years until I finally surrendered my cup to be washed. I’d like to say I saw the error in my ways, but in fact I was just too tired to continue it.

The idea of having a favourite cup still stuck with me, though. Of course, that really meant two favourite cups, one at home and one at work. No matter which location I found myself in, the task was the same: protect the cup from unwanted use. Thus I spent years being mean or sarcastic to people I loved if they used my cup, or sulking silently if the culprit was a guest that I couldn’t act out on.

People who know me may find this hard to believe, but I’m constantly on the lookout for ways to be less of an asshole. I am. Its just that what is obvious to everybody around is invisible to me until an epiphany happens, and my favourite cup epiphany took place about five years ago.

My favourite was missing from the cupboard when I reached for it! Check the dishwasher. Nope, not there either. Finally found it in the front room. Marilyn’s daughter was staying with us and she actually had the audacity to use my cup!

I sucked in a big lungful of air to use in tearing a strip off poor Erica, but then I couldn’t go through with it. For some reason, at that moment I had a vision of the rest of my life, defending my cup over and over and over again, making myself and other people miserable for the rest of eternity, all over a little chunk of porcelain that originally cost a couple of bucks. Once I’d seen that path, there was no way I could take even one more step on it, and in that instant I totally gave up the idea of having a favourite cup.

Because that’s what an epiphany is, folks. Once that truth really flashes in front of your eyes you just can’t continue the way you were. All the transformations in my life have been the result of that kind of sudden insight. That’s why I don’t believe change is hard and don’t believe in struggling to overcome things. My experience has been that change happens in an instant. The only value in struggling is possibly building up pressure to make that flash happen, but some of my best flashes have occurred in areas where I didn’t even know I was having difficulties.

And that’s my cup story. Believe it or not, it was very important. Since that day my life has been significantly better. I’m still an asshole in lots of ways, just not that one anymore. One small step for Glenn. I still have preference for a particular cup, but nowadays if I reach in the cupboard and wind up with that one its a stroke of good fortune that may mean today is going to be better than I expected.

Tags: Canada, Chicken Soup for the Soul, Coffee, Cooking, Global Television Network, Home, Luck, Vancouver

Posted by: swampy | 11-08-2009 | 08:11 PM
Posted in: Insights | Comments