“He who prays and sings in holiness, eats and speaks in holiness…through him the sparks which have fallen will be uplifted.”
– Annie Dillard
It’s a Monday afternoon in Vienna, Austria, and I am sat at a marble-topped table, sketching my fifth café in this city – Café Leopold Hawelka, named after its beloved owner who passed away in 2011. I finished my Wiener melange hours ago, literally, but the two waiters – a pair of bow-tied men named Michel and Morris – don’t seem to mind that my sketchbook and I have stuck around for so long.
The fact that it’s acceptable to linger for hours in a Viennese café was one of the things I loved most when first learning about the city’s famed coffeehouse culture. But there were other traditions I discovered as well: the marble top tables, the daily newspapers bound in wooden poles, and the little silver trays each coffee is served on, always with an accompanying glass of water.
This attention to detail is what I found so mesmerizing about the tea ceremony in Japan – the way that something as common as a cup of tea (or in Vienna’s case, coffee) is made almost sacred, transformed simply by giving it a little more time and care.
It’s also an idea that Annie Dillard discusses at the end of her book, For the Time Being. Quoting Martin Buber, she writes:
“Here and now, presumably, an ordinary person would approach with a holy and compassionate intention the bank and post office, the car pool, the God-help-us television, the retirement account, the car, desk, phone, and keys…‘He who prays and sings in holiness, eats and speaks in holiness…and in holiness reflects upon his business, through him the sparks which have fallen will be uplifted, and the worlds which have fallen will be delivered and renewed.’”
Seeking the holy in the everyday – the magic in the material, you might say – is what has kept me in Vienna longer than I expected to be: lingering in café after café, feeding my new addiction to Wiener melanges on silver trays, and reveling in routines made reverent.
I have a feeling Mr. Hawelka wouldn’t mind either.
Simply divine. Yes, it is so critical to find the holy in the everyday. The magic in the material. When we live this way, life has intention and passion and purpose. If we don’t, we merely exist, another particle floating in the atmosphere. Thank you for re-minding us to slow down and savor the simple.
I love what you said about living with intention and purpose – thank you for sharing that! Missing you and our many sacher torte sessions 🙂
I can nearly smell the chocolatey-coffee sweetness in the air. Thank you so much for sharing your lovely sketches from Vienna!
You’re so welcome, Vanessa! And I thank you for reading 🙂 I’m sending a virtual slice of sacher torte your way today!
Beautiful sketches from Vienna, I loved that you were not rushed but simply precious.
Thank you, Daisy! Vienna definitely taught me to take my time and linger in its lovely cafes – I’m so glad you enjoyed the sketches 🙂
Finding something beautiful (or magical, or holy) in everyday life is something I try (and often fail) to do as I save up for my own venture. I try to remain aware, intentional and grateful, but it’s definitely a work in progress. Beautiful post 🙂
Thanks so much for your comment, Claire – I absolutely understand the tension between looking forward to future adventures while also staying present in the here and now, and am so glad to hear I’m not the only one who struggles with that 🙂 I’d love to hear more about the trip you’re currently saving up for – where are you planning to head?
Vienna is such a beautiful city. Thanks for sharing this lovely place with us… I love your sense for detail and the way you capture them both in your writing and your sketches. Your posts always remind me to slow down and pay more attention to my surroundings.
Indeed it is! I loved how elegant Vienna’s buildings and homes are – I could have kept sketching there for at least another week 🙂 Thank you as well for your kind words about my posts – I’m forever grateful for the way sketching slows me down, and I love passing on my observations and stories here with you!
Lovely story. I do like the coffee house culture over in Vienna. Probably one of my favorite things about the city. I also like how you can take your time in places and are expected to slow down and enjoy your time in the cafes. Something I certainly miss being back in the US.
Thanks so much, Anwar! And I couldn’t agree more with you – I know that as soon as I’m back in the US, one of the biggest things I’ll miss from Europe is the sense of time moving just a little bit slower here. I’m so glad you were also able to experience some of Vienna’s lovely cafes when you were there! Any favorites? 🙂
I would be trying for a postcard, but I’d have nowhere for you to send it!
Funny that you’re writing about this as we are lingering for an inordinate amount of time in a coffeeshop in Mongolia. The coffee culture is obviously very new for this city and definitely modeled on the American coffee culture, but we’re enjoying their version.
I always love the stories that accompany your sketches. I feel transported to another place.
I love the thought of you lingering in an Ulaanbataar cafe 🙂 I want to see pictures soon!!
PS – Definitely keep trying for a postcard, my friend – I can always send it to your mom’s house!
One of the things I love about cafes/restaurants in Europe is that you usually feel like you can linger there without anyone caring – while in the US, I always feel like they’re waiting for me to leave so they can turn the table over. Cafe Hawelka sounds like a lovely place to spend an afternoon.
I know exactly what you mean, Laura. While I’m definitely guilty of lingering in US cafes, I usually feel like I have to keep buying a new coffee every hour or so to justify keeping my table…while in Vienna, especially at Cafe Hawelka, that was definitely not the case 🙂 Thanks for reading and saying hello!
i, too, have visited and sketched in Austria, once with an old friend who was born there and still had perfect German! Hope you’ll LOVE the elegant Kunsthistoriches Musuem and the Klimts at the Upper Belvedere.and the Secession building which has Klimt’s Beethoven frieze in the basement….as well as the funky architecture of Hundertwasser!!! So much to do and see. I love your watercolor sketches!!!!
Wish I were there again!
Arlene
That’s so fun to hear you’ve also sketched your way through Austria, Arlene! Thank you as well for the brilliant recommendations. Although I’ve sadly left Vienna, I will absolutely be writing them down for the next time I visit 🙂 By the way, I’d love to see some of your sketches! Are they posted anywhere online?
Seeing your sketch brings me back to the days when I sat and studied in the Viennese cafes for a summer. What I would give to go back, write essays, and eat the delicious pastries!
That sounds like such a lovely summer, Alex! What were you studying in Vienna? Although I would have loved to spend more time there, I have a feeling being around so many pastries would be dangerous after a while 🙂
This post brings back memories of spending a bitterly cold February Sunday in a cozy coffeehouse in Vienna, sketching with my travel companion. We got it in our heads to converse solely in Italian that day, and whenever the barista came by to see if we needed anything, he considerately spoke to us in Italian. What a magical day that was. Here’s to many magical days on your journey!
Ahh, I just loved reading about that bitterly cold Sunday in Vienna – it does indeed sound magical. And the fact that your barista spoke to you in Italian is pretty much icing on the cake 🙂 Can’t wait to hear more of these stories when I’m back out your way in January…and I’d love to see some of your European sketchbooks at some point, too! xo