I put instant coffee in a microwave oven and almost went back in

Hear, O listeners, the strange yet wondrous words of the jester-philosopher Steven Wright: “I put instant coffee in a microwave oven and almost went back in time.” Though cloaked in humor, this saying is not mere folly. It is the laughter of wisdom, the playful mirror of human yearning. For in its jest lies a profound truth: mankind is ever restless with time, seeking to master it, to bend it, even to reverse it. The jest reminds us that while we may joke of returning to the past, our true task is to live fully in the present, lest we be consumed by longing for what cannot return.

The instant coffee, born of human impatience, is itself a symbol of our age. We crave the quick, the easy, the immediate. Yet when placed in the microwave, the machine of speed, Wright envisions the absurd consequence: not progress forward, but a spiraling backward into time itself. Here is the paradox—our relentless pursuit of swiftness may not carry us ahead but may trap us in a cycle of regret and repetition. Humor unveils the danger: that haste, unchecked, may rob us of the very progress we seek.

History teaches this lesson with clarity. Consider the tale of the Concorde jet, a marvel of speed. It crossed the Atlantic in half the hours of ordinary planes. Yet in its swiftness lay its downfall: too costly, too hurried, unsustainable. What was meant to carry humanity forward seemed instead to fling it back into longing for simpler, steadier ways of flight. Just as instant coffee in a microwave might promise an absurd miracle, so too can human haste promise wonders but deliver folly.

And yet, there is also light within the jest. For to “almost go back in time” is not wholly despair. Memory itself is a kind of journey backward, a return to moments past that shape us still. When we laugh at Wright’s words, we are reminded of the power of imagination: that through art, humor, and reflection, we can revisit the past—not to dwell there in sorrow, but to draw wisdom and joy from it. His humor becomes a lantern showing that the human heart, even in jest, yearns to touch eternity.

Thus, the meaning of this saying is twofold. First, it warns against the folly of speed without reflection, of grasping at shortcuts that undo the very progress they promise. Second, it celebrates the human gift of imagination, by which even the absurd becomes a window into wisdom. The microwave and the coffee are but emblems; the true subject is our relationship with time, ever fleeting, ever precious.

So what lesson should we take? Do not hurry blindly, nor seek shortcuts that rob you of substance. Instead, embrace each moment, even if it is slow, and let it ripen with patience. For wisdom is brewed not in an instant but in the careful steeping of reflection and action. At the same time, do not lose the gift of laughter, for humor disarms despair and makes truth bearable. A jest well-heard can carry the same weight as a sermon.

Practical actions arise from this. Learn to laugh at life’s absurdities, for in laughter there is strength. Use time not only to labor, but to reflect, to savor, and to remember. When tempted to rush, pause and ask: is this haste leading me forward, or backward? And when you look upon your past, do not mourn as if lost, but gather from it the wisdom to shape your present.

Thus, from a simple joke about coffee and a machine, Steven Wright offers what the ancients themselves would not dismiss: a truth veiled in jest. “I put instant coffee in a microwave oven and almost went back in time.” In these words, laughter and wisdom unite. Let us hear both. Let us live wisely, not hastily; joyfully, not despairingly; and with humor as a torch to guide us through the swift, fleeting corridors of time.