On Friday night, I received some bad news. It was in my mind all night and I started imagining that it was my fault even though it wasn't and that it was a much bigger deal than it was. I couldn't sleep.
When I woke up - more tired than when I went to bed - I got out a tea set and took some time to brew myself some nice black tea from my collection even though I usually drink tea in the afternoon. Going through the process of selecting my teapot and teacup, waiting for the water to boil, transferring the water to my teapot and brewing for just the right amount of time, then enjoying the aroma and slowly sipping my tea while enjoying a cookie and writing in my journal was exactly the right way to break through my own thoughts.
I love that tea takes just enough time to force me to slow down and appreciate the moment. Taking that time then engages all the senses - seeing the beautify of the tea set, feeling of the warm tea cup, smelling the tea leaves, tasting the tea and how it changes between brews, and hearing the tiny clinks of tea ware.
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