The Tao of Don
This bottle was a gift in 2008, when we moved to Boulder. Our first guests brought Don with them and left him here. At the time Don was peppery and green, like us. Every sip crisp as a cracked alder branch. Every glass like cool metal.
Over time Don became routine. Or maybe we did. In Boulder daily living is a preoccupation. Career building, money saving, friend-adding. We added other tequilas to our repertoire. Drank them for their differing tastes.
Tonight Don emptied out. As is fitting for such an event, I consulted the Tao.
“We throw clay to shape a pot, but the utility of the pot is a function of the nothingness inside it. We work with being but non-being is what we use.”
These last years rest on the fading outline of an old life: long afternoons climbing Lumpy’s granite spires. Hours spent hanging siding. Commitment to the balance that comes with making a move ten feet out. Splitting work for a powder day.
Turns out Don’s value wasn’t just the tequila. Lonesome on the counter, the bottle is a reminder of an old relationship. A reason to reconnect. Emptiness is productive. Maybe that’s the Tao of Don.