“I like the pause that tea allows.” – Waris Ahluwalia
The invitation arrived in the mail, inviting my wife and me to Afternoon Tea.
It came from a friend but we were puzzled? What was the occasion? Afternoon Tea, that ritual introduced by the British in the 1800s, rarely has a place in today’s routine.
We’ve attended our share of events – receptions, luncheons, dinners, even meetings at long polished tables, or over coffee at a local shop – but never Afternoon Tea. It’s a tradition that has been left behind, like the White Rabbit of Lewis Carroll we’re all too busy rushing from here to there to ever stop for Afternoon Tea.
Yet there it was, a mailed invitation to join her.
Our host was standing in the open front door as we parked in the suburban driveway; easy to spot in her bright red sweater. She had laid in a fire to greet us on that wintery Friday afternoon. We’d known her for years, but only in the most casual of ways.
Her home was welcoming, wih space for the possessions she hadn’t yet given away. Only those with memories or needed to fill a daily purpose were allowed to remain these days. I thought about how comfort doesn’t come from a decorator or store, it comes from a rich and full life.
The cups had been set on a table in front of the fire. She excused herself for a moment, then returned with a steeping pot of red rooibos tea along with a small bowl of dried fruits and nuts.
As we settled into the sofa, she explained how she had discovered this healthy drink in South Africa years before. I thought how the tea must be working, marveling at the glow from our host.
She apologized for the silent television in the corner, explaining how she often had friends over to watch a movie and then discuss its acting and plot as they prepared a meal. She explained that the TV had been a gift from her daughter and she had resisted its presence at first, but now she was enjoying its value in assembling a community of friends.
She talked about how she was enjoying her days. “Nothing to do, no place to go,” as her long time yogini said in Savasana. The phone rang, but she didn’t answer. We were what mattered today. We shared stories, nothing too deep or revealing, just stories with their power to hold us together.
Later, as we walked to the door, she explained how she had always wanted to know us better. She was glad we were able to come for tea. She could have suggested coffee somewhere, but that wouldn’t be the same.
Coffee has an agenda, but tea – not so much. Tea shares and it listens.
So for my tomorrows I’m planning to leave my agenda on the table and move to a comfortable corner for a pot of rooibos tea; remembering how, “The secret to every lasting relationship is in putting a few drops of kindness in the cup.”
As always the conversation starts here.
“In the ordinary choices of every day we begin to change the direction of our lives.” – Eknath Easwaran
I have had afternoon tea, both the formal London hotel type and the home type. We can probably learn a lot from the old European tradition. It’s possible that the late hour allows for a less rushed experience. Facing each other one-on- one or with just a few people is key. Talking without an agenda makes it relaxed. Rushing wouldn’t do the trick though, getting to know each other or catching up. The tea business had a long and storied history. My husband’s former boss, Sir Ian Wood of Aberdeen, Scotland, is using his retirement and wealth to work at… Read more »
Vicki –
Thank you for your wonderful comment. I do agree that the afternoon hour makes the visit more relaxing.
Also, it’s exciting to know that someone is spending their time and money to grow the movement of supporting small-scale farmers. It’s a movement we all can join each time we visit the marketplace – and we don’t need to travel to Africa to start.
– Bruce