Searching for a new cup: Longing for my old one

Searching for my new cup

I just moved out from New York to San Francisco. I packed two luggage bags and a back-pack. I didn’t bring my whole house and not even 1/20th of what I own. I brought enough to help me get by in two-week increments. Every two to three weeks I will be returning to New York to finish up my lingering projects and to see my family that stayed behind for a bit. My over-priced closet that passes for a furnished studio apartment in the bay area has a bed, towels, television (with no antenna), microwave, and a coffeemaker. Yes, coffee is indeed a necessity. However, my favorite coffee cup did not come with me.



I get up each morning and toddle over to the coffee maker. Seriously, it is just a few feet from my bed. I could almost make the coffee in my sleep. I make my coffee, stir in some syrup, add my sugar and hazelnut creamer. Those are the same steps I do at home. Yet, the coffee is missing something. I feel a bit saddened when I drink it. At first I was using the coffee cup that the apartment as furnished with.  The cup is so slim I needed to mix up about 6 different servings. I then decided to go searching for a new coffee cup. I searched and searched. I couldn’t find cups anywhere. No big coffee cups that is.


In the ubiquitous liquor markets in San Francisco, I readily found plastic cups. I went to a big box chain store and found the same cups my apartment came furnished with. I was saddened by my lack of a cup. I needed my big cup that fit nicely within my both hands. Holding my cup felt like I was holding a heart. Yes, I understand how this may sound extreme. To many of you a cup is just a cup. To me, my big red cup represents home, stability and warmth.  I found a new cup at my local Starbucks. It’s not super big but it is big enough for now. However, my cup just feels like a slightly big cup doing its job without much feeling.



When the dog bites,

When the bee stings,

When I’m feeling sad, I

simply remember my favorite things,

And then I don’t feel so bad

When I go back next time to New York, I will make a special space in my backpack for my red cup. I will hold onto it tightly and drink many yummy sugary coffee concoctions.  It is simply one of my favorite things. My little big red cup how I long for the warmth of your coffee in my tummy.


7 replies »

  1. Oh, I totally relate to this. To have a favourite cup, and to be in a new space, a new city, a new home, and longing for that habitual almost extension of the body.
    Often in the morning, as I reach for my favourite cup, sometimes having to wash it from the previous day, even though there are other cups available, I think of some Buddhist thing I read years ago about finding detachment to such things, disconnecting from the grasping energy of longing for these kinds of personal attachments…and I think it, and I know I still love my cup. 🙂
    I do hope San Francisco treats you well!!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Our coffee cups are associated with the morning comfort we get with that very first sip. My favorite cup used to be a large Christmas one that my sister-in-law gave me. Since it broke, years ago, I haven’t had another take its place. All other cups are just cups.

    Liked by 1 person

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