Each sip is a small breath, a reward that gives the soul the right to simple pleasure.
There are people who look at a glass of beer and only see the price. I see a small reckoning with myself. A silent repair. Because sometimes the day charges too much, in the hours, in the words swallowed, in the frustrations and disappointments, in the plans that didn’t turn out as expected.
So I allow myself this gesture: open a bottle, feel the sound of the seal coming off and take a deep breath. It is as if, for a few seconds, the world slowed down. The foam goes up slowly, the aroma spreads, and I remember that being alive is also that, creating pauses, finding beauty in the intervals.
Drinking beer is not an expense. It’s a liquid way of saying to myself: You did your best, and that’s enough for today. It’s a reminder that pleasure doesn’t have to be great to be true. Sometimes, the right sip, the right glass, the right silence is enough.
The beer gives me back presence. It anchors me to the now, in the touch of the cold glass, in the amber color that changes with the light, in the first bitter note that awakens the palate. And, deep down, it’s less about alcohol and more about ritual, that moment when the body and soul finally meet.
Because, honestly, what we call “spending” is often what keeps us whole. And there are days when toasting yourself is the fairest act of self-love.
By: Maria Anita Mendes
Discover more from Arte da Cerveja - Maria Anita Mendes
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.