The Daily Grind: Resilience in Every Cup - July's Journey of Grit ✨

Wake up and embrace the grind, coffee lovers! July arrives with a powerful reminder that sometimes the most extraordinary transformations happen when we dare to do things differently. This month's selection showcases familiar origins expressing themselves in entirely new ways—proof that resilience isn't just about enduring the storm, but learning to dance differently in the rain.

The Art of Persistence: A Roasting Revolution

We're revisiting the beloved regions of Cajamarca, Peru and our trusted Colombian sources, but with a twist that required every ounce of precision and patience I could muster. By pulling back on development time during the final roasting phase, these beans reveal hidden depths and delicate nuances that were waiting beneath the surface all along. It's a reminder that sometimes restraint requires more courage than going full throttle—knowing when to ease up, when to let things unfold naturally, rather than pushing to the absolute limit.

This approach mirrors the very essence of grit: it's not always about the loudest roar or the longest burn, but about the quiet determination to find new paths when the familiar ones no longer serve us.

July's Seasonal Promise: The Harvest Awakening

As July unfolds, coffee-growing regions across Latin America are beginning their harvest season—the culmination of an entire year's worth of dedication, weathering storms both literal and metaphorical. Farmers who planted with hope months ago are now seeing the fruits of their unwavering commitment. Each cherry picked represents not just a bean, but a testament to the power of showing up day after day, regardless of the challenges that threaten to derail their dreams.

This seasonal transition reminds us that every ending is simultaneously a beginning, every harvest the result of countless small acts of faith and perseverance.

The Flavor Journey: Resilience Revealed

Peruvian Persistence: These Cajamarca beans, kissed by slightly less development time, now sing with almond and chamomile notes that dance like morning meditation in your cup. The shortened roast reveals honey sweetness and lime acidity that were previously hidden beneath deeper caramelization, finishing with that signature green melon flourish that arrives like a gentle reminder that strength doesn't always need to announce itself. It's coffee that whispers rather than roars, proving that sometimes the most profound power comes from knowing when to hold back.

Colombian Courage: Our Colombian selection showcases the delicate complexity that emerges when given room to breathe in those crucial final moments of roasting. Green tea elegance meets lime brightness, while orange blossom aromatics weave through peachy sweetness and clean white sugar undertones. The result is a coffee that embodies the quiet confidence of someone who has weathered storms and emerged not just intact, but more refined—proving that sometimes less development reveals more character.

When the Grind Gets Personal: Lessons from Two Years Past

Two years ago, there was a moment when I almost walked away from it all. A particularly challenging period at work—team dynamics that felt more like navigating a minefield than collaboration, uncertainty clouding every decision, and roads ahead that seemed to lead nowhere but more confusion. I found myself questioning everything: my leadership approach, my resilience, even whether the struggle was worth it anymore.

But this was a particular chapter I had to close and move forward from, especially given my daughter was on the way, due sometime in June 2023. The stakes had shifted entirely—this wasn't just about my career anymore, but about the kind of leader, provider, protector, and example I wanted to become for her. Sometimes life gives you the most profound motivation to push through when you least expect it.

What that difficult season taught me was invaluable: the power of never giving up, the courage to seek help, and the wisdom found in guidance and mentorship. I learned that true leadership isn't about having all the answers—it's about knowing when to reach out, when to listen, and when to admit you need support to navigate the path forward. Becoming a father meant understanding that vulnerability and strength often walk hand in hand.

While I've always had a profound love for coffee, it wasn't until 8 months ago that I ventured into roasting my own beans. What started as curiosity became my anchor during those turbulent weeks two years ago—though back then, I was still dreaming of one day controlling the entire process myself. Each morning cup felt like a small act of defiance against the chaos, a reminder that some rituals could still bring clarity even when everything else felt uncertain. Little did I know that years later, I'd be the one measuring, timing, and listening to the beans crack—that the meditation I found in simply drinking coffee would evolve into the deeper practice of crafting it, creating my own proof that progress was always possible, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

The breakthrough came not from pushing harder or trying to solve everything alone, but from learning to adjust my approach and accepting guidance from those who had walked similar paths. Just like these July roasts, sometimes the answer isn't more intensity—it's about finding the precise moment to pull back, to trust the process, to seek wisdom from mentors, and to believe that even familiar challenges can yield entirely new results when we're humble enough to learn a different way.

The Rio Lesson: Leading From Behind, Initiating From the Front

The friendships that have shaped me over the years taught me something profound about leadership that I carried into those challenging moments two years ago. Marcos, whom I've known for the past few years, showed me through his natural warmth and friendship what authentic connection actually looks like. Whether it's his genuine generosity with that sorvete vendor showdown or the way he approaches every interaction with such sincere care, Marcos demonstrated something I desperately needed to learn as a leader: sometimes being a leader means eating last, but always being the one to initiate.

Meeting Vitor during my most recent Rio trip added another layer to this understanding. As my new coworker, his authentic openness in our first in-person meeting reminded me that leadership isn't about hierarchy or having all the answers—it's about being willing to step forward first, to create moments of genuine connection, to build bridges even when dynamics feel uncertain.

During those difficult weeks when everything felt overwhelming, I found myself thinking about these examples of warmth and friendship that showed me the way. The leadership I wanted to embody wasn't about commanding from the front, but about creating space for others to thrive, being willing to take the first step toward reconciliation, and understanding that sometimes your strength is measured not by what you keep for yourself, but by what you're willing to give away. That's the kind of leader I wanted to become for my daughter—someone willing to initiate connection and bear responsibility, even when personal stakes felt overwhelming.

Roasting Reflections: The Art of Progress

This month's shorter development time taught me something profound about progress itself. It's not about getting it right the first time—it's about trying until you get it to where you want it to be. Each batch required patience, adjustment, and the willingness to trust that incremental changes could yield extraordinary results.

The beans didn't cooperate immediately. Some batches were too bright, others lost their complexity entirely. But each "failure" was actually data, each adjustment a step closer to unlocking the delicate balance these origins were capable of expressing. Progress isn't a straight line—it's a series of calibrations, small course corrections, and the courage to keep experimenting even when the outcome isn't guaranteed.

In work, in relationships, in life—this is how real change happens. Not through dramatic overhauls or forcing solutions, but through consistent, thoughtful adjustments and the patience to let things develop naturally. Sometimes the most meaningful progress comes from knowing when to ease up, when to let the process breathe, and when to trust that your careful attention will eventually yield something beautiful.

The irony isn't lost on me: by developing these beans less, they revealed more of their true character. Maybe that's the lesson July wanted to teach us all along.

These beans won't last long—July's lessons in resilience are meant to be savored while they're fresh. Each cup carries the story of farmers who never gave up, beans that revealed their secrets through patient experimentation, and the reminder that sometimes the most powerful transformations happen when we choose progress over perfection.

Caffeinated and committed to the grind.

Simon