Tea

My tea bag has attached to it a tag with a zen like saying or quotation. Something to ponder while steeping. While sipping. While breathing. 

My coffee bag has some quirky or otherwise jolting name like “Rabble Rouser” or “Face Punch!”

And so I ponder the stark contrast between a tea drinking lifestyle and that of the hard charging coffee drinker. 

On the one hand I am inspired and relaxed and creative, all the while participating in an ancient tradition which carries with it an aire of healing, introspection and tradition. 

On the other I find creativity also but in a much more aggressive fashion. One that electrifies my system like a bolt of lightning. And then… the crash. Often with coffee I find that I drink it because (when chemically dependent) I NEED to. 

Four weeks into a dopamine reset I find it easy to wax poetic about the boon of tea and the rigors of coffee but I’ll be back on my hand grinder soon enough. 

The perfectly burr ground morsels to be brewed into a face punching concoction which reminds me once again of the excitement of the NOW. 

I heart coffee

And coffee hearts me 

But in this NOW 

For me

It’s tea 

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