Hello, friends of the community. How are you doing these days? I hope this week has been as productive as my coffee this morning. As you know, I like to share my anecdotes about this drink, and although I've had many memorable experiences this year, the one I remember most was not exactly because of the taste of the beans, but because of the drama that came with dessert.
It happened a few months ago when a couple of friends and neighbors, with whom I have a cordial relationship, invited me over for coffee. I had no idea they were going through a family crisis. What started as a simple and tempting invitation—“join us for coffee this afternoon”—turned into a torturous and unsolicited couples therapy session that lasted several hours. I realized too late that I would not be the guest, but the therapist.
The setting felt cozy at first, and I thought, “How delightful, a quiet chat.” But as soon as my friend's husband arrived, the atmosphere changed completely. They both began to tell me, almost at the same time, about the existential drama they were experiencing. It was a complex situation in which both were largely to blame, yes, but here was the problem: neither was willing to admit their mistake. They quickly cast me in the role of judge or referee, demanding that I decide who was right and who was to blame for their misfortunes.
I swear I deeply regretted having that coffee. The sacred moment of drinking was contaminated. With every sip, there was so much drama that the cup, although well prepared, tasted bitter. And when I say drama, I am not exaggerating. As they told their versions of the story, my friends cried, raised their voices, insulted each other, and even blamed me, accusing me of being biased toward the other side.
The discomfort was palpable. I tried to remain calm, to offer neutral perspectives, but it was impossible. We would take a step toward a solution, and immediately return to the same starting point, repeating the same arguments over and over again.
My mind, in an exercise of self-preservation, drifted away at times. Between sips, I analyzed their obvious unwillingness to compromise. I thought: if they hate each other so much right now, if they don't love each other and neither is willing to do anything for the other, why don't they just separate? It would be the most sensible and mature thing to do. But no. I realized that they enjoy, or at least are accustomed to, this stormy relationship and the drama they generate around them. They like to put on a show in front of anyone, and then, as if nothing had happened, continue together and repeat the cycle. At that moment, I understood that trying to mediate or give them advice was simply a waste of time and valuable energy.
They are looking for an audience, not a mediator. I accepted that I am good at giving advice, but I also learned that there are people with whom it is useless to try to intervene, as they are comfortable in their circle of conflict.
So now, my coffee ritual has changed. When I am invited to an afternoon gathering, I think twice. I assess who is inviting me, what kind of gathering it will be, and, crucially, whether the gathering has the potential to end in a dramatic scene. After that experience, I have come up with endless excuses to decline their invitations, especially if I know they are in conflict.
I do this not because I don't care about their well-being, but because I value my peace of mind. They waste my time, because I know that after all the drama, they will be very relaxed the next day, ready to return to their old ways. I would much rather have my coffee alone at home, with the silence that recharges me. I already have enough challenges in my life without having to deal with other people's conflicts, especially with people who only take up your time, steal your energy, and will not change their behavior.
For me, coffee is a ritual of peace, a contemplative pause, a moment of good vibes. Since that day, when I am invited to an afternoon coffee, my mental question is: “What is the cost of this coffee? How much drama are we talking about?” And even more so now, at the end of the year, when all we want is to be calm, relaxed, and infected by the magic of Christmas. Getting away from those conflicts is the greatest sign of self-love.
Nothing compares to that moment of peace and tranquility that a delicious coffee offers, whether enjoying good company that adds to the experience, or simply the solitude that allows you to recharge your batteries and focus on what really matters.
The image belongs to millycf1976 and was manipulated in Canva.