A whole pot of tea

This is my first post. That may be obvious be the lack of additional posts. More than anything I’m writing it out for myself as a statement. To move forward requires movement first.

Note - this is a live draft version of this post - edits will be made for grammar and cohesion. This author is trying to reduce rigidity around perfection and normalize learning. Last updated 7/13 MST

Opening

The morning was slow, not slow to start but quietly productive. Space filled with odds and ins of keeping up on maintenance. It’s the maintenance of a home, a yard, a human body, a human mind, and a canine companion.

It’s reminded me of a conversation with an acquaintance who was speaking about the transition to motherhood. Her expectations of upkeep changed from having a clean house to a lived in home. The demands of expectation, keeping a clean and tidy home, exceeded her capacity.

There was a tone of remembrance. It was the loss of having let something go, the joy of a happy life, the dedication to change, the simultaneous existence of being the exact same person and a completely new one.

Tasks, demands, maintenance - they take considerable time and trade off - would you prefer a clean kitchen, dishes done or would you prefer to leave them out in lieu of other adventures? Undoubtedly there’s a balance between the two, and like my acquaintance the balance point will be found as life shifts, even if it’s not at first.

I wonder how much of this needs to be actively decided or just occurs, and I’m sure that’s different for everybody. When you just let it happen, does it make everything feel too out of control? Does it make it feel too uprooted and you lean into the habits to correct course?

Tea Time

I drink tea. Usually a cup or two a day, sometimes more particularly in the winter. It’s cozy, flavorful, reminds of being in a garden and helps with my terrible water consumption habits.

I am also a romantic.

Period romance - check
Jane Austen fan - check
Wuthering Heights - check (the book and the song)

Suffice it to say, drinking tea reminds of being in my grandmother’s english garden surrounded with roses and lavender blooming. A wrought iron table with hand embroidered table clothes, tatted lace doilies that function as trivets, and bone china tea sets. Tea sets from the turn of the century with all the accessories, a miniature milk pitcher and a sugar dish filled with sugar cubes, the sterling silver tongs resting near by to grab the one, two, or three sugars you may need.

Soon after my partner and I moved in he found these things out. My love of a cup of tea. My love of nostalgia for english tea time. My memories with my grandmother. From there came my own tea set. Not as complex, antique, or comprehensive. Just a tea pot, four tea cups, and four tea saucers.

Drinking Tea

Waking up in the morning, I usually start with chamomile. I boil water in the electric kettle. Grab a little satchel from the Celestial Seasonings box. Make the cup of tea. Set it down wherever I’m at and proceed to give it a few moments to cool .

Inevitably, it cools past the point of ideal, some of the magic lost. It’s a reflection of presence of mind. Distracted or wrapped up in what ever task is before me. A moment of contemplation aided by the perfect sip of perfectly warm tea lost because the dishes felt more significant.

When I feel this sense of loss, like a small moment of happiness has been taken because of chores I somewhat chastise myself for not having lived more fully. Thinking to myself, if I’d only been more mindful I would’ve had that sip of tea, found a piece of contentedness and my life would be more full.

When I really think about it though, it’s an untruth. The trade off isn’t tea for completing a task. The trade off is being present in the first place dishes or sips alike. Feeling grief over missing an opportunity and projecting it onto an event (or object, or person, or anything external) is only meant to remind you that you’re a person that exists in this, and every single moment.

The balance in existing will find us. We may take more active steps, or passive, that too is a function of our circumstance and the internal compass directing our actions.

We move fluidly through the spaces we occupy. It’s a requirement of energy to be mindless sometimes, as much to be present in others. That scale will change, when it does it will be as flexible or reliable as you need However, if you get a moment, or make a habit, of being more available to drink your tea at the right temperature it may bring you more moments of joy.

And if you forget to take that perfect sip, and the whole pot of tea goes cold. Perhaps what you needed was a day for iced tea instead.