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Tea –noun
5.any of various infusions prepared from the leaves, flowers, etc., of other plants, and used as beverages or medicines.
10.one's cup of tea, something suitable, appropriate, or attractive to one: Horror movies and westerns are just not my cup of tea.
We complain about our lives… I complain about my life… sometimes I down right bitch about it. This is not a bad thing. Complaining helps me realize that there is a problem that I need to fix. However excessive complaining is a problem in itself. This is where the tea comes in. Good tea.. .not that lipton shit.
Good Tea is not just tossed together. It is not just an accident. The seed has to be planted, the seed has to grow, the plant must be harvested, the harvest must be separated from the chaff, the leaves must be dried carefully, water must almost boil, then the leaves must regenerated themselves in seemingly opposing elements fire like heat and water, and just when they blossom and unfurl once again releasing like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon their life essence gets taken from them, infused changed into something new. For great tea there must be an even greater patience. I myself and my life itself are no different than the tea.
Which touches on :
Personal Truth 3
There is a Tao to everything. If you open yourself to it (but that is for another day)
The things that happen in my life are not just accidents… well not everything :).
Life is like the tea. Sometimes we brew it for ourselves sometimes other people brew it for us. We brew with actions, and reactions and thoughts. We pick our ingredients (actively or passively) … sometimes some bastards sneak up behind you and toss something in the mix. Other times we see them put it in and just let it stay… too lazy to pick it out ourselves, or too afraid to displease them.
And when the tea is done we drink
It tastes like shit
We bitch
And pour another cup
Toast and bottoms up
WTF!!!
If it ain't my cup of tea… why the fuck am I drinking it?! Why complain and then do nothing. Why did I fill myself with the same bitter drink over and over again. Because I was worried that if I spit it out I would look like a stuck up ungrateful bitch, I was worried that it was too late to start a new batch, grow new plants and wait for a new harvest, and no matter how appalling the taste was I knew what too expect… and in that there was comfort despite the discomfort.
My mom is teaching me all about tea.
She is at the age now where she does not want me to admit how old I am because people will figure out how old she is… but she is starting a whole new brew for herself from just the seeds. She has the courage to spit, too not drink, to demand a better quality from herself. She has no idea what it will come out like or even if she will be able to finish it at all. And that is inspiring.
She laughed at me when I told her I was hesitant about starting everything over. She said that she understood my fear but that I was a silly hussy for using that as an excuse. If the shoe is fucking up your foot kick it off and if something in your life, whether it be a person, a thing, a job, a situation a habit is not your cup of tea i.e. ."Something suitable, appropriate, or attractive to one" stop accepting it in your life. Fill your cup with something else and stop being such a silly hussy.
I am mama and I love you.
