mediocrity, party of one…
{reverb10 – day 9}
Every morning, I have my own little tea party.
For me, tea is more than just a beverage, more than a daily dose of caffeine. It is a ritual that grounds me, a habit that comforts me, tea is part of who I am.
Tea requires patience. No instant gratification here, even if you use a tea bag. You have to wait if you want it to taste just right, you have to boil the water in a teapot on the stove, always. The best tea is made from loose leaves, in a pot. The best tea requires that you bide your time.
And you have to sit at your kitchen table for the first cup of the day and stare out the window at your little corner of the world, noting the changing seasons and the antics of the birds, and the way the sun glints off the freshly fallen snow.
In summer, you have to have your first cup in the garden as you listen to those same birds singing their hellos. If you are lucky, you will get there in time to watch the sun rise. If you are lucky, the tea will be the perfect complement to dawn’s new dress.
No matter how busy the rest of the day will be for me, there is always that first cup of tea.
That moment of meditation, the breathing in of day’s beginning,
the drinking in of endless possibility.
Now that’s my kind of party.