A Cup of Tea and a Place to Linger

I've been thinking a lot lately about slowing down.

Not the kind of slowing down where you completely stop doing things. That's not really me. I'm a potterer. I like puttering around the house, doing this and that, finding little things that need doing.

My mum was the same way.

But Mum knew something I didn't.

She knew how to linger.

And I'm finally learning what she already knew.

A Little Nook

My mum had a little nook under a window with a daybed. She'd sit there with her feet up, a blanket over her legs, her cup of Pero beside her, and her Hello magazine. Yes, the British Hello magazine. Mum loved it, and I still get it today. I have to keep up with the British royals, after all. 

Sometimes she'd be reading. Sometimes she'd listen to an audio mystery book. Sometimes she'd watch something on television. And sometimes I'd sit beside her.

We'd curl our legs up next to each other or put our feet on the little footstool. Quite often we'd have the same little blanket over both of our legs.

And we'd natter.

Nothing important necessarily. Just time together.

I loved those moments.

Looking back, I realize Mum was teaching me something. She was teaching me that it was okay to stop. It was okay to take time for yourself. It was okay to give someone else your time without rushing them along to the next thing.

I just didn't know that's what she was teaching me.

I'm finally beginning to understand.

My Mum's Cup

These days, my go-to teacup is my mum's cup.

I keep it right on the hutch my dad made, where I can see it and easily reach it. There's something special about that. When I reach for the cup, I think of Mum. And when I reach onto the hutch my dad made, I think of Dad.

So this one little everyday ritual connects me to both of them.

And the funny thing is, I don't treat Mum's cup like something precious that needs to be protected.

I use it.

Every day.

That's become the norm.

I love using the nice things.

Sometimes I'll make up a proper little tea tray and choose a teacup and saucer. I'll use the creamer and a teapot and make the whole thing feel a little more special. But most evenings, you'll probably find me reaching for Mum's cup. Or my blue floral tea mug from Amazon.

I love the size of both of them.

And I love that beautiful things don't have to wait for a special occasion anymore.

My Everyday Tea Ritual

My most frequent cup of tea is actually at bedtime.

I turn on the electric kettle, and usually I'll say to Paul, “Fancy a cuppa?”

Then I reach for a cup from the hutch—usually Mum's cup or my blue floral one—and choose my tea. These days, my go-to evening tea is Sweet Cinnamon Spice. I let it steep for about three or four minutes because I like my herbal tea strong.

Then I add two sugars and a little almond milk.

And then comes my very particular little ritual.

I take my teaspoon and move it from 6 pm to 12 pm in the cup.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

No stirring around in circles. No little whirlwind happening in my cup. No clinking.

Just from 6 pm to 12 pm.

It's such a small thing, but it's part of my ritual now, and somehow I can't imagine making my tea without doing it.

Then I sit down and drink my tea, or sometimes I take it to bed. Paul usually has one too. He'll have chamomile, or sometimes he'll choose apple juice. And the dog gets a treat at the same time.

It's our little evening routine.

Nothing fancy. Nothing complicated.

Just a few familiar things that tell us the day is winding down.

Maybe Mum Knew All Along

That's the part that has really stayed with me.

Mum wasn't necessarily sitting around doing nothing. She was a potterer too. She was always doing something.

But she knew how to linger.

She knew how to sit on that daybed with her feet up. She knew how to listen to a mystery book. 

She knew how to read her Hello. And she knew how to let me sit beside her and stay awhile.

She gave people all the time they needed. She gave me all the time I needed.

I think I'm finally learning what she already knew.

Slow Living Is Intentional Living

I think that's what I'm beginning to understand.

Slow living doesn't mean you stop living. It doesn't mean you aren't productive or that you have to sit still all day. That's not me, and it wasn't Mum either.

It means choosing to notice.

Choosing to breathe.

Choosing to sit.

Choosing to give yourself and the people you love a little more time.

And it doesn't come naturally to me. I'm still learning. I have to be intentional about it. I have to remind myself that I don't need a reason to slow down.

I don't have to finish everything first.

I don't have to earn it.

I can simply choose it.

I'm encouraging Paul to do the same. We are both learning that slowing down doesn't mean we're wasting time. Maybe it's actually one of the best ways to use it.

A Place to Linger

So when I talk about a cup of tea and a place to linger, I'm not really talking about the tea.

The tea is just my invitation.

It gives me a reason to stop.

To choose my cup.

To make something warm.

To sit in Mum's chair.

To turn on the romantic piano music on the Echo Dot.

Maybe I'll read my Hello and see what's happening with the British royals. 

Maybe I'll listen to a book, because that is another habit I inherited from Mum. 

Maybe I'll chat with Paul. Maybe the dog will be curled up beside me in her bed or snuggled on the pouf with me.

Or maybe I'll simply close my eyes and enjoy the quiet.

And for those few minutes, I want to feel unhurried, content, peaceful, and truly grateful. Because this time is my choice.

I'm learning that time spent lingering is what I've always needed. I've waited far too long for it. But I'm not going to feel guilty about it anymore.

I deserve to linger.

I deserve to relax.

I deserve to use the things I treasure.

I deserve to follow the traditions I love.

I deserve to slow down for me.

And maybe you do too.

Bring This Into Your Home

This week, make yourself a cup of tea.

Choose a cup you love.

Put your phone away.

Find a comfortable place to sit.

And give yourself ten uninterrupted minutes.

You don't have to read. You don't have to accomplish anything. You don't even have to think of it as a “self-care activity.”

Just sit.

Listen.

Breathe.

Enjoy your tea.

Let yourself linger.

Because perhaps you don't need more time.

Perhaps you just need to choose to use a little of the time you already have differently.

I know that's what I'm learning.

I've spent 56 years thinking I needed to keep going.

Now, I'm learning to stop.

To breathe.

To notice.

To be grateful for the slow moments I choose.

And perhaps that is one of the gifts of this season of my life:  I finally have permission to linger.

A cup of tea.

A place to sit.

And a little time for me.

💛

Thank you for spending a little time around my table today. Today is a perfectly good day for tea.

Until next time…

Put the kettle on.

— Debbie’s Afternoon Tea