What a Coffee Tray Taught me About It's Not Too Late

there's plenty of time to let yourself want what you want

I taught a writing retreat recently and my guest teacher was the brilliant

Natalie Serber

. For some reason I can’t recall now, I was talking about how often I spill coffee on our carpeted stairs because I overfill my coffee cup with too much foamed milk.

On my coffee mornings (Bob and I take turns making lattes and drinking them in bed thus the need to walk up the stairs with coffee), I know I’ll overfill my mug and either have to clean up the spilled milk on the counter or the stairs.

But I can’t stop myself.

I finish telling this story to the writers and Natalie pipes up,

“I’m going to buy you a tray. And not only won’t you spill, but you can also bring up the jug with the extra milk if you like. You can have all the milk you want.”

I sat back, gobsmacked. There was something important to pay attention to here but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. Why hadn’t I thought to get myself a tray?

Later that evening, I pondered why Natalie’s suggestion hit me so hard. I slowly realized it was because my extra milk habit was a perfect microcosm of my relationship with it’s not too late and with desire.

I had been giving myself what I wanted — extra foamy milk — but not really giving it to myself because hello, there wasn’t room in my mug. It was exactly like how I’ve been giving myself time and mental space to write my novel, but not really giving myself the full wildness, playfulness and expansiveness I crave.

It’s like I’m saying to myself, “Not too late to write fiction” and at the same time, “or maybe it is?”

It’s like driving with one foot on the gas and the other foot on the brake.

Natalie, being the wise woman she is, gently offered me a solution. Have what you want, friend. It’s just foamy milk and a little longer morning reading and cuddle time. It’s okay!

Have what you want. Not that it’s always possible, far from it, but there is something so powerful about saying, “I want more foamy milk and to lie in bed a little longer in the morning” or “I want more space for my story, I want it to take over more of my life” and then not snatching it away from yourself.

Because that’s what we can do — sidle up to something we desire, get a sip or two, and then jump away as if someone is going to smack us with a ruler if we take anymore.

I am so tired of doing this to myself. It’s embarrassing to write this post. And some days it would be easier to declare it’s too late to write fiction than to keep struggling. But damn if I will do that.

Still, sitting with what I want, letting myself have it, some days it makes me want to crawl out of my skin. The coffee spills on the stairs are my tiny reminder to keep trying.

(You may not be surprised that the main character in my novel, Thea, struggles with letting herself want what she wants. In her case, it’s magic. It’s messy, it’s dangerous, it’s selfish. Stay away from that stuff! But, of course, she can’t.)

I want to try pausing more often to ask myself, “Am I letting myself have this fully?” Whatever this is — a piece of chocolate, an orgasm, a novel writing session. Bringing the light of awareness to the moments where my social conditioning throttles the full savoring of what I’m giving myself feels doable.

I’d love to know if you ever find yourself hedging about something you want, giving yourself a little bit of it but not 100%. Has anything helped you relax and embrace it wholeheartedly?

Thanks so much for reading,

Jen

P.S. You can get on the early list for 2025 retreats right here.