So much is going on, I tell her.
I will catch up with you next week.
Because it is true. There is excitement and work. Sorrow, deep sorrow. Birth of friendships, or maybe just deepening.
I will have tea with you then, I tell her.
I am overwhelmed.
Then I see this at April Harris’s Life and Times. She is writing about tea …
But it isn’t just the drink itself that is important, it is the ritual round it. Not that we have tea ceremonies like in Japan or anything, but the simple act of boiling water, pouring it over tea and serving it, is very centering. You see, whether you are making a cup of tea as a celebration, as commiseration and comfort, or to calm someone, the way you make it is the same. So even if your life is falling to pieces around you, or someone in an impossible situation has come to you for help and you have no idea where to start or what to say, making tea is something you can do.
April is right. I will catch up today.
Because I want to make tea, for the Haviland cup that Ann gave me.
I put water in the stainless steal teapot. I boil it. I measure Creme Earl Grey into a ceramic container with its little nylon tea basket. I smell the scent that says, “Celebrate” and, on the other hand, “I am so sorry.”
I run my finger along the fragile line of the tea cup. It tapers to a fine edge. I can feel that it is indeed antique.
Light comes through the cup where it thins.
Remembering another friend’s tea journey, which centers on the outdoors, I choose to sit outside to drink.
Now the sky and autumn rides on the surface of Creme Earl Grey. Colors of both hope and sorrow.
But tea is something we can do.
So I am doing it today.
New photography with modified reprint from my first writing blog.
Read a tea reflection: Recovering Time
- PEEK INTO THE NOVELIST - 07/02/2021
- TEA IS FOR ANYTHING LIFE BRINGS - 06/09/2021
- MAKING THE PERFECT CUP OF TEA - 05/25/2021