Letting Go of the Buzz

I love coffee. I love the taste. I love the smell. I love the ceremony of it—the slow bloom of a pour-over, the hiss of a milk frother, the comforting clatter of cups behind a café counter. I love that it brings people together and the conversations that it catalyzes. I even find the sound of a roaring grinder as soothing white noise while I tap away on my laptop. Coffee is art, science, and culture all mixed into one beautiful ritual for a morning brew.

What I don’t love is caffeine. Or, more accurately, what caffeine does to me. I’m one of those beings who vibrate like a tuning fork after a single cup and then stare at the ceiling at 2 a.m., contemplating the heat death of the universe.

For a while, I tried to outmaneuver the problem. I would also excuse my inability to sleep as simply being a night owl. But eventually, I noticed I couldn’t fall asleep without some melatonin. And so I decided to let go of the caffeine and stop trying to negotiate with my nervous system. Shortly thereafter, I found that the quality of my sleep improved, my mind was clearer in the mornings, and I could fall asleep without medicated intervention.

I still drink coffee. Mostly decaf now. It’s not the same, not entirely. I miss the rush—the small, warm high that used to light up my mind like a switchboard. But strangely, in giving up the jolt, I found more joy in coffee itself. The flavor. The story. The community. The quiet poetry of it all.

I think I might love coffee even more now—not for what it does, but simply for what it is.