A tale of tea.

When I don’t know what to write, I make tea. When I do know and I just need to stay awake long enough, I make coffee. Coffee is fuel. But tea is about reflection.

When I make coffee, I count the ingredients into the coffeemaker. I flip a switch and head back to the computer. The coffee brews. I run up, fill my cup, and sit back down.

Making tea takes involvement. There are steps along the way. I start the water toward boiling. I listen for the whistle. I choose a cup, pour a bit of hot water in, pour it out. I put the teabag in. I get the sugar canister, add a bit to the cup, put the canister away. I pour the water into the cup, on top of the tea bag, making sure the water also stirs the sugar in. I bring the cup back down here, and write a bit. Then I take the bag out, put it on the little saucer Hope brought back from Oxford.

There is an attentiveness to making tea that I don’t have with coffee, though I like them both.

[pause to remove the tea bag and consider the next part of the metaphor, since you know that’s what this must be.]

I want the Bible to give me answers. I want to dump in some water and some grounds and push a button and get happiness. A verse a day to a better life. It’s almost always more complicated than that.

It turns out that the best understanding comes when I read a bit and let it start to simmer. I add a bit of my life to the cup and pour the hot water in and let it brew.

It takes ongoing intention for tea. And life.

For 7×7, see 3.5.12

3 thoughts on “A tale of tea.

    1. Jon Swanson

      of course, there are lots of people who don’t drink tea. And you get more than you think. Or, at least that’s what I see when I read Bouncing Back


  1. Pingback: Jon Swanson is a remarkable man

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