Some people meditate.
Some run.
Some light incense or journal their way into clarity.
Me?
I brew coffee.
And not the “add hot water to sachet” kind.
I mean the real stuff—freshly ground beans, slow brewing, full attention.
No shortcuts, no rushing.
It started quietly.
I didn’t grow up in a house of pour-overs and V60s.
But mornings always smelled like coffee. The traditional South Indian filter kaapi—strong, dark, with a layer of milk and a spoonful of sugar—served not just as a drink but as punctuation. A pause between sleep and school, between silence and speech.
I didn’t realize back then that this was my first encounter with ritual.
Fast forward a few years, and coffee became something else entirely.
Not just comfort, but a compass.
Something I returned to every time I needed grounding.
Before a big meeting, after a long night, in the middle of creative blocks—coffee wasn’t the answer, but it helped me ask better questions.
Now, it’s woven into the way I work.
I don’t start my day with emails or Slack.
I start with a method.
☕ V60 Pour-Over
This is the slow thinker’s brew. Clean, bright, almost meditative. I use it when I want clarity—not just in flavor, but in thought. The kind of brew that pairs well with writing, planning, or staring out of a window asking big questions like, “Why do I have six meetings today?”
☕ Moka Pot
Bold. Concentrated. Unapologetic. This is my “deep work” brew. No distractions, no fluff. When I need to lock in and move things forward, the Moka pot doesn’t just give me caffeine—it gives me momentum.
☕ French Press
This one is all about comfort. Full-bodied, smooth, a little nostalgic. I save this for weekends or late afternoons when I’m reading, journaling, or slowing down without shutting off.
And then there are the beans.
I’ve never been someone who drinks coffee for the sake of drinking it.
The beans matter. The story behind them matters.
These are my go-to estates:
🔸 Mysore Kappi
There’s something deeply grounding about this coffee. It’s thick, rich, and bold—like the kind of advice your grandparents gave you. No fluff, just depth.
🔸 Kent Estate
A rare, clean-tasting Arabica that’s refined without trying too hard. It doesn’t scream for attention, but it lingers in your memory. The kind of brew you don’t forget even hours after the cup’s gone cold.
🔸 Monsoon Malabar
This one is a conversation starter. Aged through the monsoon winds along India’s western coast, it’s earthy, spicy, and tastes like the memory of a storm. It’s wild, and I love it for that.
🔸 Kopi Luwak
Yes, I’ve tried it. Ethically sourced, of course. Smooth and almost eerily low in acidity, it feels more like an experience than a drink. Like drinking silence. It’s not my everyday brew, but it sits on the shelf like a rare book you pull out when you want to feel something different.
What I’ve come to realize is this:
Coffee is how I return to myself.
Not because of the caffeine, but because of the care.
Grinding the beans. Boiling water. Measuring with intuition.
Every step is a chance to slow down and check in.
There’s no room for distraction in a good brew.
Which is why, for me, it’s not just a ritual.
It’s a threshold—between scattered and focused, between noise and signal.
I’ve built ideas over a pour-over.
Written newsletters (like this one) between sips.
Even made major career decisions over a Moka pot late at night.
We spend a lot of time chasing tools and tactics to be more productive.
But sometimes, the simplest rituals hold the deepest wisdom.
Coffee has taught me: – Focus begins with presence
– Depth needs space to steep
– Some things are better slow
And maybe that’s the secret:
Ritual isn’t about doing something extraordinary.
It’s about doing the ordinary with extraordinary attention.
So here’s to your version of the ritual.
Whether it’s chai on the balcony, journaling before bed, or a walk with music and no destination—
I hope you find your rhythm.
Because when the world feels chaotic, the smallest rituals can hold it all together.
☕
—Vasishta
Enjoyed reading it and glad you’re sharing experiences. I am a pour over person. Slow mornings, coffee. And so glad to see Kent estate in the list and love their coffee, their property, the whole team :) Too many memories with them. I also suggest you try Ratnagiri (now before someone pounces on me saying it is overdone) try the SLN - 9. It is OUT OF THE WORLD. Another I highly recommend is from the Bettadamalalai Estates. Happy brewing.