GENTS CAFE X GAGGIA | This article is part of the “Over an Espresso” series—an invitation to slow down, brew an espresso at home, and let reflection surface
The smell is what hits me first. The bright warming notes that drift upwards announcing the awakening of another day. Next are the wisps of steam that gently caress my cheeks, reassuring me that everything’s going to be ok. Finally the taste as I tilt the tiny espresso cup back, allowing the dark liquid to pass over my lips and so draw this most satisfying of daily rituals to its next stage, an awareness of myself.
As my senses begin to check in, I become aware of a low hum coming from across the room. I realise I’ve switched on the turntable. With the cup in my hand I amble over and stare down at the black circle of vinyl waiting, patiently. I look from one dark circle to another, cup to record and back again, then lift the needle arm and gently place it in the first groove of the now rotating record.
The drums hit me like a wake up call and a jazzy groove takes over, propelling me to the sofa where I end up amongst the safety of the cushions with the cup still in my grip. The trumpeter takes a solo and suddenly I’m no longer there. There are drums and trumpets but now I’m back in a darkened corner of the theatre, feeling somewhat lost in the enormity of my purpose, waiting for my entrance.
Through the dark folds of the curtains I see shafts of light falling across the stage, interrupted by three figures casting shadows of their own. Looking down at my script and for the umpteenth time I debate the choices I have made in the search for truth and authenticity in the ritual of rehearsal.
I snap the book shut, no longer able to look at the jumble of words on the page and not for the first time I feel lost. I look up again, searching for something to hold onto and then it’s like a switch has been flicked and all my senses have been heightened.
I take another sip of my espresso causing the memory to grow even stronger and the words ever clearer as I listen to the speech coming from the other side of the curtains. I find myself leaning forward, straining to hear every word the character imparts. I feel my pulse quicken and my breath coming in fits and starts as I await the answer I have been searching for.
Between the fingers of my hand I feel the soft texture of the curtains as the actor turns, almost as if to share these words of wisdom to me alone. He seems to stare directly into my eyes as he says ‘This above all – to thine own self be true’.
There’s a click that jolts me back to reality. I’m still on the sofa, clutching one of the cushions as if my life depended on it. My eyes are fully open just as the first rays of morning sun ease their way through the curtains. I release my grip on the cushion, raise the cup to my lips and drain the last of the espresso as the taste and those echoing words wash over me.
This above all – to thine own self be true. Many lifetimes separate myself and the author of this advice but the message remains the same. Be authentic in how you live your life, that is the best way to be.
The feeling of loss has evaporated like the steam before and as I realise the day has just begun, a feeling of contentment washes over me. I get up, put the needle back in the groove, stare out at the sunshine warming my face and say to myself – this above all, to thine own self be true.
