Traveling Coffee Girl

  • It Was the Day After Christmas- Now What?

    Marie Magoch

    Adulting nowadays feels a lot like the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, especially when you’ve entered into your empty-nester phase. As children, everything in the world was new, magical, fascinating, and beautiful. We were encouraged to play, create, and grow our imagination. When we set higher goals for ourselves many of us were cheered on and supported. A dream could feel like a future back then.

    At some point, that empowerment to be more became about survival and maintenance. The hope endowed upon us to make a better world was passed onto the younger generation and the generation after that. We grew up, paid too many bills, paused our dreams indefinitely, tried to blend in, and created our families.

    Then, one day, the children have started their own lives in pursuit of their dreams. After the boxes are packed, you notice the house is more organized and less chaotic. The holidays feel a little more quiet and we finally get a moment to reflect on all the years that blurred past while we were fussing about, trying to make sure everything was “just right”, as if we were preparing for a show rather than living our lives. This is typically when people begin talking about preparing for the Third Act of life, but it feels like we missed the whole Second Act.

    One day, when the the dust has settled, there comes a moment. That moment when you take a sip of coffee, stare out the window as you really notice the silence, and suddenly remember a child who had big dreams. The child who was excited about Christmas and knew Santa Claus was real; the child who was a leader and thought everyone was her friend; the child who wanted to be an actor, a writer, and an artist. That’s the moment you remember. The magic isn’t gone, but the technique is a little rusty. Empowering dreams still feels important.

    The week between Christmas and the New Year is not about making resolutions or creating a new version of yourself. This time is a gift. Accept it as an intermission. Take time to process everything and then remember the magical being you truly are, built by dreams. Instead of focusing on some ethereal Final Act, consider how you want your story to go next. It’s your life to live and your story to write, after all. You are the writer, the actor, and the director. Give yourself permission to Dream Big again.

    You don’t need to wait for the holidays to make your dreams come true. Sometimes, all you need is warm cup of coffee, a moment of reflection, and the courage to build the life you want to have right now. What would you do if you could do anything?

    Reinvention takes extra coffee. Support the journey through Buy Me a Coffee.

    l


  • The Journey Begins : My First Step to Falling in Love with the Coffee Community

    Marie Magoch

    I didn’t always love coffee. In fact, for the first few decades of my life, I HATED it. I blame the 1980s and the love for everything instant. I was 10 years old when my dad first let me try a sip of his morning cup of instant Taster’s Choice. I still think that “Taster” had something wrong with their taste buds because it turned me off of coffee for far too long.

    During the 1990s, shows like Friends and hearing about writers who used the uniquely curated coffeehouse atmospheres as inspiration for their stories made me feel like I was being left out of a club full of fun and creativity. It was the smell of coffee that was impossible to hate. Something about its warm inviting bouquet transported me back to the memories of stopping at coffee shop with my dad while we traveled through the Southwest. Whenever I was in a grocery store coffee aisle or smelled coffee brewing, I inhaled deeply. That smell was and is one of the few scents that immediately calms my nervous system. How could something that smelled so damned good taste so awful?

    It all changed one Saturday night when a friend suggested coffee after an evening of shooting pool. It was that evening I discovered two important truths: first, that freshly brewed coffee with just the right amount of cream and sugar was glorious. Second, coffee helps me focus. It became the difference between being able to function like a seemingly regular adult versus my brain sounding like a thousand lost bees trying to find their queen.

    While I had softened to coffee’s warm embrace, I didn’t fall in love with it until 2017. Coffee and I had a close friendship with a lot of heavy flirtation, but there wasn’t any real commitment. Coffee had infiltrated my life, becoming a daily necessity broken up by the occasional “Caramel Macchiato” or Turkish Coffee. But the thought of diving into the artisinal world of coffee roasters and coffee houses hadn’t yet begun to cross my mind.

    For years, my biggest coffee adventures were located within the occasional diner or at any of the five Starbucks within walking distance of my apartment. The way I viewed coffee began to change the morning I caught my first glimpse of Ashland, Oregon. I would never be the same.

    Oregon Shakespeare Festival

    The only thing I knew about Ashland was that it was the home of THE Oregon Shakespeare Festival. My first introduction to Oregon coffee was Zoey’s Cafe and All Natural Ice Cream. The simple elegance of the transparent coffee mug was my first fixation in coffee-photography. Not only did it create fantastic photographs,but the taste of chilled cream mixed into freshly-brewed coffee on a crisp morning blended perfectly with the magic of the artistic town that titillated my imagination.

    Even after my star-crossed encounter, I did find myself at Starbucks later that day. It was a familiar place to sit for a moment and charge my phone. That was the place where I first experienced Oregonian hospitality and how coffee could bring people together.

    The conversation in the back room of that Starbucks began with me asking for a charging port for my phone. The next thing I knew, a roomful of customers were collectively discussing the pros and cons of Androids and iPhones.  I don’t remember everything we talked about that afternoon, but I do remember the unmistakable energy. We never learned each other’s names, but for one hour, we felt like friends and not strangers. Finally, I was starting to feel part of the club. But, there was more to that journey than I could ever have imagined possible.

    This is only the beginning. Support my coffee journey through Buy Me a Coffee.