In a word
Adrenaline courses through me. Even as I tried to shut my eyes for a whole 20 minutes, my mind transported me back to Oaktown Spice Shop and the cooking with tea workshop that I led there tonight. We are on the cusp of my favorite holiday—not the one all wrapped in ghoulish attire, but the one resplendent in gratitude. I am swimming in gratitude right now. It’s keeping my eyes open when they should be shut. Tonight, I met a chocolate maker, a teacher for special ed. students, a podcaster, and oodles of others who shared a kind remark and assisted with panache during the demos. One man told me he can’t remember when he’d had this much fun on a Tuesday night. Another one told me he had found the workshop through the podcast (that’s only a week and a half old!). One woman bought a book for her tea cart-owner mom and had me inscribe it as a gift, eager to share the easy and fun ideas with her. Another woman told me she learned a lot. A man asked me if I had ever wanted to be a teacher. You can’t go to sleep quickly after these kinds of encounters.
Let’s rewind to last year: my mom was diagnosed with cancer. I was laid off two weeks after her surgery in a round of routine dismissals with no hard feelings attached. Her surgeon told us they had gotten all the cancer. My agent told me my book had found the right home. I followed in my Dad’s footsteps and forged out on my own starting a fledgling company and sailing this ship on in the afterglow of his life. If you had asked me a year ago where I would be, the answer would not have been the one blinking at me in the darkness of a Tuesday night. I’m teaching (sporadically), writing (sporadically), and doing something creative as work everyday for companies I believe in. The second time I visited India, I remembered something a friend had said on my first visit, “Take good notes. You can only visit India for the first time once.” This season will happen only once in quite this way and I am trying to take good notes of it that they might birth the possible inside of you too. Our time is finite.
What is the one thing you feel you must do that scares the crap out of you to attempt? Next, think about how the world might just become a better place from your feat. Then, go do it. Will a cooking with tea book change the world? In a word, no. But, will it brighten up the bookcases and kitchen countertops where it gets streaked and splotched with use? You bet. And, I’m grateful for the chance to just show up. I share about Steeped as a reminder that if I can do this, you can do the work set out for you. Be encouraged! Keep going! And, thank you for showing up too.