A Cup Of Mindful Tea

Go ahead.  Get comfortable. 

Pour your big mug of Good Earth tea and let the steam rise to fill each inhale.  Breathe in every tangy spice tinge to the charcoal-colored leaves.  Its glory.  Its strength.  Breathe it in.

Your legs might curl beneath your seat, cushioning your weight.  Or perhaps they fall, dangling to the ground.  Wherever they are, notice them.  Appreciate their presence.  If you are comfortable, close your eyes.  Or don’t.  It’s your choice.  Whatever feels safe.

And when you are ready, bring your attention back.  Eyes closed.  Or open.  To the steam rising from your mug.  Follow its path from the surface of the water to the tip of your noise.  Its moist kiss on your skin.  Feel it rising into your nostril and through your sinus.  Its flavor transforming into warmth.  And carry that warmth.  Through your mouth, across your cheeks.  Carry that warmth, to your neck and up to your forehead.  And when it reaches its limits, let the warmth sit there.  Let it embrace the skin nearby.  Let it tickle your pores. 

And let it start to fade.  One second at a time.  The warmth only staying for so long, giving way to the crisp freshness of the evening.  Giving way to the opening of your eyes. 

And before leaving this page, go ahead and smile.  Pat yourself on the back.  From me, to you.  Go ahead and rejoice because you have just found tranquility in the moment.  You have just let the rest of time fade away.


Now why would I walk you through such a (dare I say) ‘hokey-pokey exercise?!’  Because, first off, who doesn’t benefit from a little added mindfulness?!  At the end of a long day, at the start of a busy week, at the commercial break of a heart-pounding episode of Grey’s Anatomy, who wouldn’t gain from the tranquility of imagery – the tea optional.

But, in full honesty, why did I ask you to join me in this exercise?  Because I was tired of being patient.  It’s hard, right?!  After pressing send on so many query letters to literary agents, I was – within seconds – restless.  I was tired of playing the waiting game and ready to see the future or edit the past (because, of course, the minute you press send, you start to imagine how you could have done things differently).  I was tired of patience, and I wasn’t getting anywhere with the cliché that ‘patience is a virtue.’  Sure, patience is great, but between you and me, patience can be HARD!

So, in an attempt at patience, I opted for mindfulness.  If I can find my center in this moment, if I can open my eyes to this second of beauty, if I can open my mind to today’s world, maybe, just maybe I can stop thinking about yesterday’s loss and tomorrow’s concerns.

Maybe, with our big blue mugs of Good Earth tea and our curled legs beneath our bodies, the present is all we need.

© 2016 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

Once Upon Today

“Have you seen the river today?”

I shook my head side-to-side, smiling at the pre-packaged salad on the conveyor belt.

“Oh, man.  You should,” the cashier finished, his bright red arm reaching for the receipt.  “There’s water in it!”

After living in Boston for a full year, I couldn’t quite muster excitement for seeing water in a river.  Isn’t that where water should be?, I wondered, picturing my bus rides from Cambridge to Boston Commons.  Whenever I looked out the window on the East Coast, I found water – falling from the sky, filling the harbor, diluting the pollution between suburbs.  I had grown tired of water, tired of carrying an umbrella like an extra limb.  I had become unphased by this wet, blue substance.

It’s just water, after all!


But once upon a time (five or so years ago when I still called the Sonoran Desert ‘home’), water was glorious.  It was this magical interruption to a one hundred degree day.  It was the pleasure of dancing on the rocks with outstretched arms.  It was the reason to stop behind news crews at the river’s edge.

Once upon a time, the simplest thing seemed rare.  And in its rarity, this simplest thing brought joy.

So, once upon TODAY, let’s rekindle this joy. 

Look out to the sky and giggle at the sun.  Look into the traffic signal and cheer at its tricolor flashes.  Look at the expected and choose to see it anew, as though life has gifted this splendor for just one day.

And if you live in Boston, be sure to tell your neighbor with glee, “Have you seen the Charles River today?  There’s water in it!”

Yeah, life is pretty, spectacularly neat!

© 2016 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.