Tea

The Year of Change, Part One

2011 has been, for me and my family, very much a year of change. Many changes, large and small, some voluntary, some involuntary, some good, some bad, some still unclear. This is the first what I intend to become a series of posts on these changes, and my thoughts about them.

I'm starting small here. I've taken up drinking tea early this year.

Tea. You know, hot water, the tea kettle whistling on the stove, a cup, a saucer, a teabag. Tea. Not a political statement, but a cultural icon, a vehicle for consuming caffeine, and a connection to something lost.

I never acquired the taste for drinking coffee. When I needed caffeine, which has been often, I drank cola. Always. Any hour of the day or night. Pepsi, Coke, RC, or almost any other brand. Cola; a child's drink.

But having past the mid-point of my fifth decade walking the earth, I've put on quite a few pounds, and reducing my sugar intake seemed like a good step towards reducing my girth (or least slowing the rate of increase).

When I say tea, in this article, I'm referring only to a small sub-set of the vast universe of tea possibilities. I'm talking about hot tea, not iced tea. Black tea, not green tea. Caffeinated, not decaff.

The switch has led me to a few insights:

Firstly, it requires an element of patience to drink tea. Being the only one in either my household or my office drinking tea, it's taken one cup at a time. I heat the water in a tea kettle on the stove-top, then when the kettle whistles, I pour it over the tea bag in the cup. I wait for it to steep in the boiling water, and then wait for it to cool enough to drink. (I tried not heating it so much, but there's something ineffably different in drinking tea that is cooling from too hot than in drinking tea that was never too hot.) Then it must be sipped slowly, and, if it's good, savored.

Tea slows down the frantic pace of life. It forces me to relax and be more patient.

I started out drinking Lipton. Then I tried a version of Lipton that was seasoned with orange. Then, being a Trekkie, I had to try Earl Grey, and upon trying Bigelow's brand, quite liked it.

A friend of the Extraordinary Wife's, Irish by birth, had encouraged me to try Irish Breakfast Tea. I tried Twining's version, which is strong but a tad bitter. But I found I liked Twinings' Earl Grey, English Breakfast Tea, and Lady Grey (a version of Earl Grey infused with orange) best.

I've tried various other smaller brands on occasion, often with excellent results.

Packaging matters, too. Bigelow staples the string to the tea bag, which means it sometimes comes lose. Twinings stitches the string to the bag.

But I noticed something else, as well. I found myself more connected to the culture of which tea in an important part. I better understood Tolkien's many references to Bilbo Baggins' longing to return to his tea kettle at home. I understood better the British television and movies I've watched.

We Americans make fun sometimes of the British who, it seems, whenever adversity arises, respond first by brewing up a pot of tea. But tea is wonderful for clearing your head, and forcing you to slow down and look more carefully at your situation. Tea is also good for the long haul; you can drink cup after cup without become too strung out on caffeine, or, as with cola, too bloated.

I'm glad I took up drinking tea this year. It's helped me in dealing with all the other changes that have happened.