November 7th, 2008
Enlightenment, Really
I love tea. It’s probably not exaggerating a whole lot to say that I’m a bit obsessive. First, let me explain the appeal. Tea, made properly, naturally invites a little ritualism. As any connoisseur will attest, I can tell the difference between cups of tea made with hot or cold tap water. And all tea drinkers have a different set of rituals. Of course, that’s not hard to imagine – most people make their coffee the same way every morning too. I start with cold water and use an electric kettle (although I’m saving up for a really nice stove top one). It is nice to rinse the cup with hot water to warm it up before making the tea – but we’re in drought conditions here, and mustn’t be wasteful. I like to bring the water all the way to boiling, then let it cool just for a quick minute before pouring it over the tea. Ah, the first fragrant steam of the day is a delight – along with it’s cousin, served right after dinner it bookends my days.
I only enter this lavish description of a fairly mundane task to support my habit of collecting tea. When a thing has a ritual, and you’re a ‘collector’, you’re not crazy. You’re ecclectic. So…. with preamble out of the way I now admit to currently owning 46 different types of tea. For the record many of these are expensive, gorgeous teas which have been bought for me over the years by friends and family. I honestly didn’t realize how out of hand my tea habit had become until I recently started dating. Now grant, I live in a part of the country where tea is served cold and sweet (which I also love – I’m not a tea snob!). But even that did not mitigate the repeated looks on the faces of every man I have brought home. ‘Wow’, they say….. rather cautiously, it seems. ‘You really like tea’.
Alright, so I’ve also moved into a much smaller house than I’m used to. So perhaps my collection now appears a little more overwhelming. But you know, it really got me thinking. And looking around. I am not a packrat. I throw things away if I haven’t used them in 6 months. My closets are lean and mean. But I hoard sustenance like the end of days is coming. And I don’t believe the end of days is coming. So what’s up? Well, a few things, I think. I come from a long line of women who cook – good farming wives and June Cleaveresque homemaking skills. A stocked pantry is the norm in our family. But that doesn’t explain it. It’s not just the tea. Wine, canned goods, dried grains and beans, a stocked freezer. I am rich in food. Am I afraid I’m going to run out? No, it’s more like each tea or special food or flavor represents a meal I’ve made, times shared with friends and family, a gift from someone. I don’t want to run out. I want to be able to sip that flavor of tea for years to come.
This reminds me of Halloween candy. I had similar habits as a child you see – I always had candy left at Easter. I would parcel it out so that it lasted. I have patience. But I also have a hard time letting things go.
I am not a child anymore. I don’t have to parcel out my candy. I can have new candy anytime I want it. I don’t have to hang on to tastes and flavors. There will be plenty in the store when I need more. I choose, today, to write to remember. I will not hoard. I am never moving this shit again. And I am not staying in this house forever. I am poised on the cusp of a great adventure, and I have no idea where it will take me – only that I will bloom here, and there. But never again will I pack boxes of wine and tea. I will drink, and be merry. I will be….. Enlightened.
Isn’t that really what enlightenment is? Deciding where you want to go, and then how much luggage you’re willing to leave behind.