PHILOSOPHY OF MUGS

CAUTION: The beverage you are about to enjoy is deep.

[philosophyofmugs]

This mug philosopher has relocated (AGAIN). Amy’s now I’m Cleveland and checking out the local coffee game. So happy to be in The LAND! . . . #mugshots #coffee #oldbrooklyn #cleveland #believeland #tea #dripcoffee #rainyday #jobapplications (at Metropolitan Coffee) https://www.instagram.com/p/CcGCdzor2q6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[philosophyofmugs]

Chaos and peace This pretty much sums up the pandemic for me. Grasping moments of peace whenever I can, however I can. . . . #mugshots #wecandohardthings #tea #earlgrey #workfromhome #educatorsofinstagram #pandemic #pandemiceducation https://www.instagram.com/p/CGaoJsKA_9N/?igshid=17qv3qhqbrygx

[philosophyofmugs]

Pre-therapy peace 🥰🥰🥰 . . . #mugshot #mugshotmonday #therapy #emotionalintelligence #candles #earlgrey https://www.instagram.com/p/CF-sYlkgjur/?igshid=16msylashr5kw

[philosophyofmugs]

Pear spiced muffins and a cauldron full of coffee 🤤 . . . #mugshots #cauldron #cauldronmug #pearspicedmuffins #fall (at Rogers Park, Chicago) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF4nnf_AEsu/?igshid=1bu2v9dzf6369

[yourcoffeeguru]

[philosophyofmugs]

It’s Friday. You made it. You deserve a cappuccino. ☕️ • • • #mugshot #mugs #coffee #coffeegram #cappuccino #mugsofinstagram #friday #coffeemugsofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/B7_IdABghMW/?igshid=1e45v7qjl0p9e

[philosophyofmugs]

Happy #SpookySeason. 🧙‍♀️🎃☕️ • • • #muglife #mugshot #mugs #mugsofinstagram #halloween #sunday #sundayfunday #witch #basicwitch #coffee #coffeegram #coffeemug #coffeemugsofinstagram (at Mollies Famous Cafe) https://www.instagram.com/p/B2KiUvcAYdP/?igshid=qmtki3tylk45

[philosophyofmugs]

Monday morning mantras. . . . #believesomethingwonderfulisabouttohappen #mugshotmonday #coffee #porches #mugshot #mondaymorningmotivation #mondaymorningsunrise (at Chicago, Illinois) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1WDVO9A-Bi/?igshid=4obye20uq3ea

[philosophyofmugs]

When you’re shopping for wedding venues, donuts and coffee are a MUST. . . . #mugshot #donuts #bigmouthdonuts #coffee #raspberrylemon #almondglazed (at Ohio City, Cleveland) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0_ZLMcgxJ9/?igshid=16m866n1xqjxy

[philosophyofmugs]

An Austen kind of morning. . . . . #mugshot #byalady #janeausten #mariannecouldneverlovebyhalves notlovebyhalves #senseandsensibility https://www.instagram.com/p/BwzrO7KFZip/?igshid=1v9gpynsmef0j

[philosophyofmugs]

You must choose...but choose wisely. ☕️☕️☕️ (I spy @emilymcdowell_! 😎) • • • #mug #mugshot #coffeegram #mugsofinstagram #tuesday #tuesdaymorning #indianajones https://www.instagram.com/p/BwUSNiTl1-0/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=14hhueqm60jgm

[philosophyofmugs]

Dreaming of the "Looney Latte" from @looneybeanbishop and the Sierra Nevada mountains that go along with it. ☕️🏔 • • • #mug #mugshot #mugsofinstagram #coffeegram #latteart #coffee #coffeeshop #travel #travelphotography #travelmug #latergram #tbt #throwbackthursday #throwback (at Looney Bean of Bishop) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwHYAaoATbS/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=gcfys5yg4g3j

[philosophyofmugs]

Some major philosophizing happening at lunch today. And that’s no #AprilFools joke. 😉 • • #mugshot #mugs #mugsofinstagram #monday #mondaymotivation #mondaymood #tea #teagram #englishbreakfast #teacup (at The New Deal) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvuvkwCAkHP/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=14ld1dn1bi3ew

[philosophyofmugs]

When in Cleveland enjoy the local fare! . . . #mugshot #cleveland #phoenixcoffee #earlgreytea (at Cleveland Heights, Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvdPPANAmUn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=ypk9zbg9sl44

[philosophyofmugs]

Damn good cappuccino here in Vegas. #wearemakers #travelmug #mugshot • • • #coffee #cappuccino #lasvegas #travel #travelphotography #coffeegram #mugsofinstagram (at Makers & Finders Coffee) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvX76rUAK8q/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=a2e0obwp9kv4

[caffeineismyboyfriend]

[philosophyofmugs]

Dance like...the neighbors can’t see you.

Oh look! A picture of my 20s!

This was the last mugshot that I took in my collegiate apartment before packing up everything I owned for one of the most stressful events of my life to date: moving across LA from The Beach to The Valley. Both geographically and emotionally, I was moving away from college to a location that was tied directly to my job and future goals. It was the first step in putting down any semblance of “roots” in my “adult life,” and holy moley did that feel big.

I was very fortunate to have a gaggle of cousins and aunts and uncles to help my parents and I move everything, but even then it was a long and arduous day in the middle of summer in The Valley (so basically, terrible). Once the tired and weary crowd had dispersed, I stood in my new living room with my parents in a moment of tense quiet. No one quite knew what to say. They needed to leave and return the moving van before the shop closed, but I also couldn’t let them walk out that door. It was as if every stress and emotion that I had been suppressing had come slamming down on my shoulders, and all of a sudden I couldn’t imagine being alone. I was terrified. Exhausted. On my period. The perfect storm.

But I am nothing if not a rational being (Ravenclaw power!!!!), so I let them hug me (again), tell me they loved me (again), and walk out the door.

As my hand fell from the door handle, I turned around to face a haphazard living room piled with half-open boxes and discarded cleaning supplies. I felt like I was about to throw up. I walked up my stairs (I have STAIRS now?!) and looked at my new room. Same story: piles of crap on top of more piles of crap that I would undoubtably have to dig through to find my toothbrush later that night. Ugh. Maybe the kitchen?

There is a small landing in my apartment’s stairwell that is completely hidden from the rest of the world. You can’t see the front door, you can’t see out any windows, and people upstairs or downstairs are completely hidden from view. As my foot hit the landing, my legs started to buckle. That crushing weight on my shoulders suddenly doubled and my knees hit the floor. I instantly started to cry.

And I sat there like that, kneeling before the altar of adulthood in the middle of an ugly cry, my arms and legs caked with sweat and dust and cardboard box paper cuts. Everything hurt, especially the throbbing thing in my chest that would not slow down no matter how slowly I tried to breathe. I had had my phone wedged into the waistband of my shorts all day, and it flopped to the floor of the landing as I let myself fall to the side, face digging in to the carpet.

I groped around for the phone and automatically did what I always do when I’m feeling alone: put on some music. I almost blindly scrolled through Spotify, bringing up a song I hadn’t heard in years, but one that I knew was the hardest-hitting, biggest techno-beat rocking, and honestly, one of the crudest songs I knew. I turned up the volume on my phone the loudest it would go and got to my feet.

I stood there just breathing for a minute, waiting for the beat to drop. And when it did, I jumped up and down, threw my hands over my head, and spun around in circles. (I’m honestly surprised I didn’t hit any walls, let alone fall down the stairs.)

It was four of the most exhilarating minutes of my life. I let every frustration go, punched every bad thought away, kicked and danced until I was breathing hard and starting to sweat. Suddenly I didn’t feel afraid anymore. I felt powerful and badass and like I had accomplished something incredible. And whether or not this moment was, in fact, incredible was was irrelevant. 

I’ve thought about that day a lot recently -- searched my heart for that feeling of invincibility and bravery when facing other daunting tasks or moments in life that have proved much bigger and scarier than moving from one apartment to another. I don’t quite know where that brave girl has gone, but I often listen to that techno song, hoping to call her back into existence.

Because let’s be honest: I am both this mug and this poster. On a daily basis, I am equal parts scaredy-cat and calm and steady. And I need to be both -- it’s part of what makes me, me. But keeping that balance can be tough, and there are plenty of days when I let Scaredy-Cat’s voice bounce around in my head without supervision. So today I’ll try and be a little more balanced, be a little more of that brave girl dancing on the stairs.

Dance like no one’s watching you just moved across the city and are about to conquer the world.

~ Katie