The Two-Handed Coffee

This morning, in a busy coffee shop in Seoul, I did something different—something I’m oddly proud of. Guess what? Ordered coffee in Korean? No… I reached for my coffee with both hands.

It felt unnatural, almost exaggerated—like I remembered at the last second and rushed into it while at the same time slowing myself down. I had to think, pause, and do something unfamiliar. I wasn’t just grabbing and going. I had to be present, make eye contact with the barista, acknowledge the exchange. And somehow, in that tiny moment, I felt a connection. Like I had mastered an unspoken rule.

In Korea, this is a sign of respect. You offer and receive with both hands, an unspoken gesture that says: I see you. I appreciate this moment. It slows you down, makes you intentional. In the rush of today, how often do we just snatch, sip, and move on?

Maybe the way we take our coffee is just as important as how we drink it.

Breaking habits is hard. My one-handed autopilot almost won. But perhaps small shifts like this are where mindfulness begins. The trick is to catch yourself—to notice.

Ever driven somewhere and realized you don’t remember the journey? Or locked the door, only to second-guess if you really did? So much of life happens on autopilot—scrolling, eating, walking, even conversations. We move through the motions, but are we really present?

What if we took back control, switched off autopilot, and got into the driver’s seat? A sip of coffee, a bite of food, a simple exchange—each moment is an opportunity to slow down, tune in, and actually live it.

So today, I’m going to walk and talk slower, taste my food, look up from my phone, and truly listen. Because who knows what I’ve been missing?