Coffee, Clay, and Cat Poop

I poured myself a cup of coffee just now, and I reminded myself that I’ve been thinking about animism. I’m no expert on this, but the practice of animism seems to have a spectrum of experience that goes from “everything has its own soul” to “everything is connected in a web of relationships, and the way we relate to non-humans, whether animate or inanimate, matters a great deal.” So I took a little pause, still bleary from having just woken up, and said, " Hello, coffee beans. Hello, people who farmed and harvested the coffee beans. Hello, environment where the coffee beans grew.”

Then I turned my attention to the mug. It’s a handmade earthenware mug that I found at the thrift store. Hello, cup. Hello, artist who made the cup. Hello, paint and glaze. Hello, clay. Hello to the environment where the clay was found. And, just like that, I understood my connection to a coffee farmer, an artist, and the ecosystems where the clay and the coffee beans originated.

And, just like that, my sense of relationship and awe spiked a little.

A few minutes later, I sat down to write this blog post. As I set my coffee down on my desk and sat in my chair, my feet found clumps of cold, wet cat poop. Paper towels, dish soap, water, cleaning spray, garbage can. I noticed that even this was in the care of a creature who brings me joy and delight every day. There’s a sense of tending here, and, I’m sure, if I followed the trail of connections in paper towels, dish soap, water, cleaning spray, and the garbage can, I would find another spike of relationship and awe.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I have yet to finish the cup of coffee.