Tea is the perfect antidote for a cold, cold day.

I have the ingredients in front of me. The tea powder, a heap of crystal sugar, a cup of milk, water on the stove, and of course the cardamom seeds in the tiny stone mortar and pestle. It takes time for the water to boil. While I wait, I start wondering, as I do sometimes. That tiny pile of sugar, there are probably thousands upon thousands of crystals in there. If I look closely, I bet each one of them looks like a giant pillow. The heap of sugar, to an ant crawling upon it, probably looks like a mountain of pillows, albeit I bet does not feel like one. I remember that these tiny crystals of sugar were simply the dreaming of a sugarcane only a while back. The sugarcane had to sacrifice herself, so her heart can travel the seas to this old man’s hut to sweeten his tea. The tea leaves were life- a young plant’s discovery of the sun, till some meticulous hand plucked and gathered her, so the experience of this cold day can be made a little warmer. And the milk, the excess of a mother’s love for her child, is now here to nourish me…

If tea is not a reason for gratitude, I don't know what is.

The Universe works so hard to create for me these beautiful experiences. Yet, it takes these moments of forced waiting to pay attention to the magnificence of life at play. In my default state, a cup of tea is simply a cup of tea- it is an afterthought in the hustle of my day- a given that I have convinced myself I deserve, and not notice until I cannot afford that experience.

What is true of tea, seems to be true of life. There are so many hidden stories behind each of my experiences for which I must be grateful. If I pay enough attention, the magical nature of every moment becomes visible. But there are so many things competing for my attention, and more often than not I pay attention to the shallowest ones. I compare my blessings to someone else’s and then all the magid is lost. What remains is dissatisfaction and sorrow. All I need is a cup of tea to experience the incredible machinations of the universe.

Which I why, I remind myself, I need to have less distractions to experience more of life. And I remember that these musings, even though some may call it lazy day dreaming, are what connect me to the joy of life. This too, for me, is an experience in mindfulness.

The water is boiling. The ingredients are awaiting, A good cup of tea is only a few more musings away…